The Meaning of Death
by Orodruin
Summary: No one changes over night. It's the little things, that pile up from experiences over the years. Rated for violence.
1. My Mother's Love

The Meaning of Death 

_R. Winters_

1. My Mother's Love

Summary: Everyone has their theories as to what happened to Kakashi's mother... Let's just hope this one's wrong.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. If I did, Kakashi would be seriously messed up. (As if he isn't bad enough already.)

_I didn't mean this to end up as long as it did... I've read a few stories about how Kakashi lost his mother and was bored and so I thought, 'what's the most traumatic way for it to happen?' Then this was born. And didn't want to end. Let me know how you like it.

* * *

_

"Mama!" The three-year-old boy called out, laughing as he looked back at his mother.

"I see you, 'Kashi," the woman replied indulgently as her son balanced on a rock near the shore in a small stream.

"You know, Kakashi, since you're so big now, maybe you could help daddy and carry a box yourself," a silver-haired man complained, trailing behind his family, laden down with boxes and bags for their picnic.

Kakashi just grinned back at him before running ahead again. Sakumo rolled his eyes, but grinned as well.

"I could help, you know," the dark haired woman noted, "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't carry a few bento boxes."

Sakumo smiled indulgently at his wife, "Yes, but then _I'd _feel bad. Besides, Kakashi will have to learn to help out more with a little brother or sister on the way."

And just as he said that, the little silver-haired boy came running back again, "What do you need me to carry, daddy?" The boy asked, breathless and wet from running in the stream.

Sakumo tried valiantly not to laugh but in the end he couldn't stop himself and received an offended glare for his misdemeanor. "Here, Kakashi," Sakumo offered, passing a sack to the boy as he continued to chuckle.

Kakashi grabbed the sack and ran ahead, shouting out to the dog that he was coming. Mikoto followed him with her eyes until he disappeared again.

"Are you sure this is safe, 'Kumo?" she asked with concern.

"Of course," the shinobi returned, "The rock-nin have been pulling back lately, Hokage-sama thinks we may be near the end of the war." He looked after Kakashi and grinned, "Besides, Ino-hime won't let anything happen to her pup."

Mikoto smiled as well—the large female dog was very protective of their young son, apparently having decided he was one of her own pups.

Not too much further on the small family regrouped for lunch, Kakashi helping his father with the preparations while his mother rested from the hike. They weren't even a mile out from the village, but the only part of Konoha visible from this distance was the roof of the Hokage's tower.

Lunch was a pleasant affair which Sakumo enjoyed greatly as a welcome change from the trials on the front line. Even after returning only yesterday, that terrifying world seemed a life time away now. He was glad for the lull as it gave him time to get reacquainted with his family, who he hadn't seen in just over two months. Kakashi, especially, had changed.

Just two months ago the boy had begun discovering his own interest in becoming a shinobi. Over the two months he'd been away, Kakashi had built an impressive foundation for his skills. He was maturing quickly, even showing signs of conscious chakra control already.

"He's grown up so much," Sakumo commented to his wife as they ate.

Mikoto smiled, "All for you, Sakumo," she said, "All he talks about these days is how he's going to be a great shinobi like his daddy."

"Oh, he'll be even greater than me," Sakumo stated proudly, "I've no doubt. His genius will make Jiraiya's "Yellow Flash" look mediocre."

"I hope you didn't tell him that," Mikoto said, imagining the way the man's friend would react to hearing something like that. Sakumo didn't have the chance to answer.

"Sakumo-taichou," a shinobi dropped through the leaves—little Kakashi stared with wide eyes at the ninja who called his daddy 'captain'.

Sakumo frowned, rising, "What is it?" He asked, all traces of good humor gone.

The shinobi glanced at the woman and boy uncertainly before leaning in closer and lowering his voice, making sure the others wouldn't hear what he said. Sakumo's frown deepened as he listened.

"I'll be right there," he announced when the shinobi had had his say. The younger ninja nodded and snapped off a salute before disappearing back into the trees.

"Sakumo," Mikoto started with concern, getting to her own feet with some difficulty and a hand up from her husband.

He was masked again already, snapped from a father and husband to a professional killer in the blink of an eye. "A team of Rock-nin was spotted by one of the patrol teams…" He raked a hand through silver hair, "It shouldn't be a concern but get yourself and Kakashi back to the village as quickly as possible."

Mikoto nodded and he was gone. She smiled down at the three-year-old's concerned expression, "Daddy had to go to work, 'Kashi-chan," she explained, "Can you help mama clean up?"

Wide-eyed, the boy nodded before hurrying to do so.

"… Mama?" He asked uncertainly after a few tense moments, "Are… the Rock-nin coming here?"

Mikoto smiled encouragingly at the boy as he handed her partially empty lunch boxes. "We're still very close to the village, 'Kashi, we'll be safe."

Kakashi nodded in acceptance and quickly gathered up the rest of their items silently. He stayed close to his mother as they began to walk back, never more than a few feet ahead of her and always looking back anxiously. The woman always met his eyes with a serene smile, her own concerns skillfully hidden, and slowly Kakashi relaxed. Because if his mother thought they were safe, then surely they were.

The three-year-old jumped onto a large builder by the path, grinning back at his mother. But his smile suddenly vanished when something flew past him and hit her, causing blood to spray from her chest with a look of surprise and pain twisting her face. Kakashi's eyes widened in horror.

"Mama!" He shouted, jumping from the rock only to be snatched out of thin air by thick muscled arms on a large, smelly man. Kakashi looked up, too startled to react immediately to the grinning face of the strangely clad shinobi.

"What have we here?" The man asked crisply, "Just a babe out walking with his mama?"

Kakashi was pale and sweating nervously, anxious to see his mother and get away from this strange man who he was sure he didn't like. He tried to push away from the man, but the muscular arms didn't budge an inch.

"Mama!" He screamed again, trying vainly to see around the man.

"Don't tease him, Ryu," a disapproving voice said behind him and Kakashi twisted his head around in alarm to see the other stranger, who was standing beside the boulder he had jumped from. "Hurry and get rid of him, we have more important things to do."

"Yeah, yeah," the bigger man holding the three-year-old returned. He grinned when the large, shining eyes turned back to him again. "Don't cry, baby," he said tauntingly, "You'll be with your mama in a minute. What's your name?"

"Ryu!" The second man snapped impatiently.

"Ka… Hatake Kakashi…" The three-year-old answered, staring with wide eyes at the man.

The strange shinobi's eyes lit up with interest, "Did you say Hatake?" He asked, glancing at his teammate meaningfully.

"As in the White Fang, Hatake Sakumo?" The second man asked, seeing where the first was going with this.

Kakashi twisted around to look at him again, sniffing, "You know my daddy?"

The second man smirked and the first laughed cruelly.

"Oh, we know your daddy all right, baby," the larger man laughed gruffly. He looked at his teammate, "This could be our ticket out of here, Toshi."

"Bring him with us, then," the second said, "We have to find Taeko and Yukami yet, anyway."

Kakashi's eyes widened when he was shifted in the large man's arms and they were suddenly running.

"Mama!" He screamed as loudly as he could, thrashing around, "No! Stop! Mama!"

The second man shot the first a glare and growled, "Ryu!"

The first returned the glare—_'I know!'_—and clamped a large, dirty hand over the three-year-old's mouth and nose. Kakashi let out another scream at the same time, but it was muffled and didn't carry far. Then he had something far more alarming to worry about as he found himself unable to breathe around the smothering hand. He tried to move away, but the man kept his hand firmly held across his nose and mouth. The boy struggled more desperately, managing to get a hand over his captor's to struggle furiously with it, but the larger hand wouldn't be moved.

He was beginning to feel light-headed and disoriented, the image of horror on his mother's face haunting him as he lost focus on his surroundings. Desperately, Kakashi put all his will into moving the man's hand. Suddenly, with a shout and a curse, Kakashi was dropped, landing in an ungraceful pile as he gasped for air with burning lungs and stinging eyes.

"Ryu! What happened!"

His vision slowly returned in chunks still spotted with black and pain blossomed suddenly as the large, muscular man struck him with a furious kick. Kakashi's vision reeled again and he skidded across the ground a few times, rocks and sticks scratching his skin, until he slammed into the base of a tree a few meters away.

"That little bastard!" The first man was roaring while his teammate tried to quiet him.

Kakashi shifted uncomfortably where he lay, every movement and breath causing him pain, his eyes already overflowing with tears. His breath came in harsh gasps and sobs as he tried to postpone the pain it caused him to move even his lungs.

"Look at what he did to me, Toshi! I don't know—burned me or something!" The man held out his wounded hand for his teammate to see, the skin raw and blackened in the outline of two small hands, "I'm going to kill that bastard punk!"

"He's no use to us dead, Ryu," the second man reminded him, "I'll carry him."

The first man growled, "You're too soft, Toshi, just 'cause you've got a baby of your own back home…"

Kakashi cried out in protest when he was lifted again, crying harder than ever now. He hurt so much—all he wanted was his mama.

"Now, now," the man holding him said, "Be good and stay quiet or I'll let Ryu have you again."

Kakashi whimpered miserably but quieted down a little, biting back screams as they started to run again. His vision was blurring once more around the sides and his eyes were sore and tired from all the crying, but he didn't manage to fall asleep before he was jostled painfully again. He bit off another cry of protest, which ended up coming out as more of a muffled whimper, as the man held him roughly in front of himself, something cold pressing uncomfortably against his neck.

"Don't come any closer," the man barked and through his blurry vision Kakashi could see the familiar uniforms of Konoha shinobi. They were all tense and stiff, uncertain of what to do in this situation.

"Kakashi… are you alright?" One called out and the three-year-old blearily turned to focus on him, only vaguely recognizing the face.

At the prospect of a sympathetic ear, Kakashi's tired eyes started crying in earnest again. "I w-want mama!" He wailed miserably.

The shinobi squared his jaw in anger and concern, "Give the boy to us now and we'll let you leave," he bargained.

The man holding Kakashi snorted, "So you can send more men after us once you have him back?" He demanded, "I don't think so. We'll release him when we get to the border. If anyone tries to stop us, we'll kill the kid."

The Leaf shinobi didn't have a chance to answer as the men ran again, Kakashi with them.

"Yamoto-san, Kakashi was with his mother," one shinobi said in concern to the one who had recognized the boy.

"Suoh, Kenji," the man barked, "Try to track those two back the way they came. See what happened to Sakumo-taichou's wife."

The two shinobi were gone with a double shout of, "Hai!"

"Ichigo, tell Hokage-sama what's happened," Yamato continued, "I'll shadow them."

"Hai!" The younger man confirmed, disappearing as well.

* * *

Kakashi was roughly awoken when he was dropped to the ground. His wounds protested at the harsh treatment and he curled up with a whimper, longing for his mama to make him feel better.

"Shut up," Ryu said gruffly.

Toshi rolled his eyes, "You're the one that kicked him, if he's crying it's your fault."

Ryu didn't feel the least bit remorseful, "It's the little bastard's own fault for attacking me like that."

"Imagine someone trying to fight against suffocation," Toshi said sarcastically. "Anyway, we'll give the others an hour to arrive. If they aren't here by then, we'll have to assume they're dead and continue to the border."

He pulled out a small med-kit from a pouch on his belt and turned to the three-year-old.

"You're going to have to lie still for a while if you want me to help you," he gently pulled the boy out flat, ignoring the quiet whimpers of protest. He cut down the length of the child's shirt and carefully peeled it off, getting his first look at the vibrant bruising and multiple small cuts which looked to be on the edge of infection from going so long without attention. He mentally cursed his teammate as he touched the boy's warm skin.

"Mama…" the boy whimpered miserably, blinking a few more tears out of his dry, itchy eyes.

"… This is gonna hurt a little, kid," Toshi warned, "Just… try to hold still."

Kakashi nodded slightly, biting his lower lip.

* * *

Sakumo stared in shock, wavering between grief and anger for a few moments before anger won out.

"_I'll kill them._" He growled, sounding more like one of his dogs than a human.

"I'll leave the decision to you, Sakumo," the Hokage said, "But whatever you do, don't act thoughtlessly. Yamoto's shadowing them, but I trust you'll be able to find them without difficulty."

The dogs picked up Kakashi's trail easily. His scent was strong with fear and they moved at a fast, anger-driven pace, smelling his blood quite strongly.

* * *

After Toshi patched him up a little, Kakashi slept for a while and was feeling a bit better when he woke. The pain had become slightly less sharp and he was thinking a little more clearly. He wiped his eyes and sniffed, longing again for his mama.

Toshi glanced at him, and then stood up, "Well, we've given them long enough. Let's go."

"We should kill the little bastard now and run for it," Ryu said crossly.

Kakashi stared at him with wide eyes, not even breathing.

"Let's just worry about getting to the border first," Toshi said as he picked the boy up and began heading out.

"Anô…" Kakashi hesitated as the man looked at him, "… Your hitai-ate are different…" he mumbled uncertainly, "Are you… are you Rock-nin?"

Toshi shifted and touched his head band with one hand, "That's right."

"But… daddy said the, that the Rock-nin were re… re… leaving," Kakashi said, "why are you here?"

"Your daddy underestimates us," Toshi said, "The Earth Nation is a strong one; we aren't going to run away. The Fire Nation will be brought to justice."

Kakashi's face scrunched up in thought, "Why?" He asked at length, "What did the Fire Nation do?"

"You know," Toshi said casually, "It's all about land, money, and power."

"The Fire Nation unfairly took land from the Earth Nation," the man continued, "They paid us less than it was worth and wound up taking a large portion of our clientele with it. When Earth demanded fair reimbursement, Fire refused."

Kakashi frowned in confusion, carefully following the explanation, "But… didn't the Earth Nation agree with the Fire Nation when they sold the land?"

"Kid… like I told you, it's political—it doesn't have to make sense," Toshi said.

Kakashi frowned pensively. To him it sounded like the Earth Nation should just leave them alone. The three-year-old's musings were cut off abruptly when the body behind him and arms around him tensed. He looked back at the man in concern and his eyes widened in horror when Toshi's mouth opened only to cough up blood as he fell forward.

The three-year-old screamed and was pinned to the ground under the heavy corpse, the landing jarring his injured bones. There was a clang of metal against metal and Kakashi twisted his head to see Ryu smirking at someone on the other side of him, where he couldn't see.

"So it's true," the large man mused, "That little bastard is your son, ne?" His cruel smirk widened, "Well, it'll be my pleasure to kill you both!"

Kakashi shrunk back in fear as a wave of killing intent flooded the area. But it wasn't coming from Ryu.

"_I'll kill you!_" A furious voice growled and Kakashi saw that someone was suddenly in front of the other man, a sword in his hand that was wreathed with white energy. Ryu's eyes widened and he brought up a kunai to block, trying to move at the same time, but the sword cut through it as if it weren't even there, and sliced the man's body in two, blood spraying everywhere in an instant, even going so far as to splatter on Kakashi's face where he cowered beneath Toshi's body.

He stared, wide-eyed and terrified, as the man flicked his weapon, blood shaking from the blade. Then he turned slowly, the harsh look still on his face as his eyes met with Kakashi's. Instantly, the boy broke out of shock and started sobbing, barely even recognizing the face of the man.

Just as quickly, Sakumo's features softened and he put his sword away to crouch beside the man's body and push his weight off his son. Kakashi's sobs hurt him, which only made the boy cry all the more, the fright disappearing into the pain. He was lifted into strong arms and he clung instinctively to the blood-sprayed vest, trying to see through the water in his eyes.

"D-d-daddy?" He asked uncertainly between sobs he wasn't able to quiet.

The man smiled sadly at his son, rubbing his back gently and soothingly, "Shh, Kakashi… it's over now."

With wide, watery eyes, Kakashi looked down at the dead body of Toshi, a kunai ring barely visible sticking out of his back. He started shaking and crying harder. Sakumo hushed him again and started walking from the sight, confident that Yamoto would take care of the bodies.

"Don't cry for them, Kakashi," he whispered soothingly, "They were shinobi who tried to take my precious person…"

Kakashi sniffed and sobbed out his words, "B-but—T-toshi-san—had—he had—a little boy—too, daddy…"

Sakumo wouldn't allow himself to feel anything towards the men he killed. He pulled Kakashi closer, mindful not to hold him too tightly. "Then he should have known better," he murmured to his son.

* * *

The three-year-old looked small and lost in his large hospital bed and loose hospital clothes. His knees were pulled up to his chest, in part because it eased the pain and in part just to have something to hold. He stared somberly at the white covers on the bed, eyes following the folds in the material, in part because they were there and in part just to have something to look at.

His father had brought him directly to the hospital, but he'd been quick to leave again, leaving the small boy alone and afraid with strange people in strange clothes poking and prodding him… That had been yesterday and he still hadn't seen him again.

"Mama…" The boy whispered hoarsely, his throat still sore from all the screaming and crying he'd done the day before.

He longed more than ever to have mama sitting by his bed. Not just because then someone would be there. Then he would know she was okay, not like those other men he had seen, spraying blood and lying stiffly on the ground never to wake up again.

Kakashi understood death. He had asked before and his mama had explained it to him. Death was when a shinobi didn't come back home to his family. When he disappeared into whatever mystery was beyond life. The only sure thing about death, his mama had told him, was that someone who was dead didn't come back to life. It was why they prayed at the family shrine, to wish their loved ones safety wherever they might be. Kakashi didn't remember any of the loved ones they prayed for, but he sat quietly while his parents prayed, anyway.

The door slid open and wide, haunted black eyes looked up hopefully. But the woman in the doorway was a stranger. He watched with wary eyes as she smiled at him and stepped inside the room.

"How are you feeling, Kakashi-kun?" The blonde haired woman asked.

Kakashi looked down and swallowed back the lump that was in his throat. He rubbed his dry eyes furiously before replying weakly, "I want mama…"

Because his mama would make everything all better in that special way that only a mama could.

The woman's eyes were soft as she looked down at the boy, "Oh, Sakumo…" She whispered.

The three-year-old looked up at her warily again, "Do you know daddy?" He asked, "Do you know where he went?"

The woman smiled sadly, "Your daddy's very busy right now," she replied softly, "I'm sure he'll come to see you soon."

The boy looked down again, "I wish mama was here…" He said forlornly.

The woman said nothing; there wasn't anything she could say. Nothing she wanted to, at any rate.

In a small, quiet voice, Kakashi voiced his fears, "Is… is mama dead?" He whispered fearfully, looking up again to meet the woman's eyes.

She didn't answer but looked a little afraid herself.

"I… she was bleeding," Kakashi said worriedly, "Just like those men… like those men daddy…" He couldn't bring himself to say it, that his daddy had killed those men. The thought was too horrible. And Toshi had been a daddy, as well.

"I don't think it's my place to say…" The woman started uncertainly before relenting with a sigh, "Kakashi… your mother… we weren't able to get her medical attention in time…"

The boy regarded her quizzically, trying his best to understand the complicated words she was using.

"Yes…" the woman said with another sigh, "Your mother didn't make it, Kakashi…"

Kakashi looked down again, feeling strange. He hurt, inside, but he wasn't sure how to show it. He felt, maybe, like crying, but he couldn't cry any more after yesterday. His eyes were still too tired. So he just sat there, staring, hoping the feeling would go away.

"I'm sorry… Kakashi…" the woman said sincerely.

Kakashi didn't understand, "What… what did mama do?" He wondered desperately, "Mama didn't… she was always nice, she didn't hurt anybody…"

The woman decided not to correct him—it would be better for him to remember his mother as that than as a ruthless Jounin. "She was just… in the wrong place at the wrong time… these things happen sometimes… and there's no good explanation," the woman sighed—she really had to get away from all this killing and dying. Being forced to tell a three-year-old boy that his mother was gone—it was never something she would have imagined doing back in her Academy classes. It wasn't something she wanted to do now.

Kakashi sat silently as the woman took note of his vital signs. She told him he was doing well and left him alone again. Kakashi stared at the creases in his bed sheets, just to have something to look at, as that horrible feeling gnawed inside of him.

The woman's words echoed in his head—_'she was just… in the wrong place at the wrong time…'_—he should have been faster to gather their picnic. _The wrong place_—maybe he should have held her hand, hurried her along like his anxious heart had wanted to. Maybe he should have led her through the shortcut Ino-hime had sniffed out. _The wrong time_—maybe if he hadn't stopped to play on the rock… if he'd just hurried straight home.

'_It's my fault…'_ shock and something else hit Kakashi at the same time. It was his fault his mama had died. If he'd been faster… if he hadn't been playing around… if he'd protected her like he'd been learning… if he'd been more alert… but he hadn't. And now mama was dead.

'_That's why he's not here…'_ realization was like a painful blow to the stomach and Kakashi curled up tighter around himself. His daddy must know it was his fault, too. _'He's angry, which is why he isn't visiting.'_ Kakashi wished he could cry to make the pain go away, but his eyes were still dry and no tears would come.

* * *

Sakumo sat in the dark corner of a bar, a bottle of strong sake and grief his only companions. Guilt ate at his insides like a demonic entity. It was painful and wouldn't go away, even at his fifth serving, more than enough to get the usually dry man drunk.

'_It shouldn't be a concern…'_ that's what he'd told her. Of course, it had been a concern, and because of his comforting words she hadn't been prepared for the worst.

'_Screw the village; I should have walked back with them!'_ He raged at himself. He didn't blame the village, of course, it was his own choice. Other shinobi could have handled the invasion just as well as he did. Or nearly as well.

'_It shouldn't be a concern…'_ He had left his wife—his _pregnant_ wife—in the guard of his three-year-old son. He had left his son—his _three-year-old_ son—in the guard of his pregnant wife. It was the most foolish thing the genius Hatake had done in his life. Even more foolish than that time at the Academy…

Mikoto had been feeling the weight of the pregnancy on her. She liked to pretend she could do things just as well, but he knew even something as simple as a small picnic would tire her out.

Kakashi was just a little boy. He was becoming a genius ninja, but he was still untrained and inexperienced. He couldn't have been expected to do anything.

Guilt churned inside the man and he took another hard drink, draining the last of his current bottle and slurring a request for another. The waitress gave him a pitying look—she knew what he'd done because the alcohol had loosened his tongue—and left to fulfill his request.

And Kakashi… guilt and self-loathing _devoured_ him at the thought of the small boy's wide eyes and blatant fear, focused not at his kidnappers, but at his own father.

"I can't believe you," a harsh, disapproving voice interrupted the man's self-depreciating thoughts. "You'd leave that poor boy alone in the hospital just to drink yourself dumb in some seedy bar? Selfish bastard."

Sakumo deserved it. He deserved more than what his friend was saying, far more.

"I'm a horr'ble pershon, Jira…" Sakumo agreed miserably. The waitress arrived with his fresh bottle but it was snatched away even as he reached for it.

"I think you've had enough," Jiraiya said coldly, glaring at his friend as he took the seat across from him.

"Go 'way, Jira… don' need you tellin' me wha'to…" he trailed off as his train of thought was muddled away by alcohol. He grasped for something to say to complete the sentence he'd already forgotten. "A'gashi…" he moaned miserably. How his son must hate him. It was the only thing he could think of and he completely forgot about the man sitting across from him.

He'd let his wife died and he'd become a monster right before the kid. Even a child's unconditional love couldn't withstand that.

"Sakumo!" Jiraiya snapped. His friend looked up at him, a little surprised and unfocused. "You need to go see him."

Even the drunken Sakumo didn't need to be told who.

"Can' do tha', Jira," the man slurred, "Can'… can' look at him… you shoulda… shoulda seen it…"

Jiraiya didn't have to ask what.

"He… the way he wash looki' at me… like a… a _monster_!" The single word was perfectly clear in his drawl. The word that triggered the tears. And Jiraiya found himself staring at his friend as he sobbed.

"A _monster_, Jira," he repeated brokenly, "I… he was… _I_ made him _cry_, kami! His eyes… oh, his _eyes_… didn' even recog—cognize me… Ga'ashi… Kakashi! Like… like I was… some kinda _monster_…!" He rambled on, the slurring becoming worse from his sobs. It was painful to watch.

"He doesn't hate you, Sakumo," Jiraiya finally interrupted when the silver-haired man was so incoherent he couldn't pick out a single word.

Sakumo eyed him blearily—_'how would you know?'_

"He's your son, Sakumo…" Jiraiya insisted, "He doesn't… he was stressed yesterday… in pain. Tsunade said he had broken multiple ribs on his left side. Probably couldn't even think straight, let alone recognize you. He was already afraid and high strung, getting attacked again was just too much for him to handle."

Sakumo didn't look comforted.

Jiraiya sighed and rubbed his temples. "Tsunade just came from talking with him," he announced, "He asked after his mother and she told him… he asked after you, too, but she couldn't say much. _You were busy_, she said. The kid's all alone in there right now, he needs you."

"Doesn' need me… 'll jus' end up getti' him killed," Sakumo slurred, depressed.

"Of course… we'll need to get you sober, first," Jiraiya mused. He'd never seen his friend this drunk in his life—not even at his own bachelor party.

"Don' wanna ge' sober," Sakumo muttered in protest, "Feels bedder this way."

Jiraiya rolled his eyes and stood, setting the still full jug on his chair and crossing around the table to heft his friend up. Sakumo was dead weight on his shoulder. "How many did you have, anyway?"

"Dunno… five or six…" Sakumo answered sluggishly, suddenly feeling tired. Tired and worn and guilty. Maybe he could convince Jiraiya to just kill him now. He glanced across at the man and doubted it. Jiraiya wouldn't even kill him out of mercy.

The white-haired sannin looked to the waitress for confirmation. She shrugged, "At least a dozen, I think," she said, "I lost count somewhere around seven or eight."

"Probably die from alcohol poisoning," Jiraiya grumped. He sighed and hefted the man a little higher on his shoulder, "Come on; let's get you home and sober. At least try to use your legs, Sakumo."

"Home…" Sakumo mused sadly. Home was where she wouldn't be. Where Kakashi wouldn't be. Because he had failed to protect both of them.

* * *

Kakashi had had few visitors. That medic had come again, and he'd seen Jiraiya once or twice. But he still hadn't seen his father by the next day. He didn't respond at all when the nurse entered to check on his vitals again. She told him he'd be allowed to go home tomorrow.

Kakashi wondered if he had a home to go back to. He was sure his daddy wouldn't want him, not after what he did. Maybe Jiraiya would let him move in with him—he hadn't seemed too angry. Or maybe he would be sent to live at an orphanage. The other kids would probably know what he'd done, too. Their parents would have died in the war, but him… he would have killed his own mother—they probably wouldn't want to be friends with someone like him.

He didn't look up when the door slid open. He knew it wouldn't be his father, just some medic again, probably. Maybe Jiraiya. Definitely not his mother. Because she was dead and that meant she wouldn't be coming home. And it was his fault.

No one spoke. There wasn't a polite _'how are you feeling?'_ from the nurse. Nor was there a rough, _'you holding up, kid?'_ from Jiraiya.

The silence pressed down on him, making the bad feeling inside of him even worse. Whoever it was, they didn't even feel he was worth talking to. The door opened again and slid shut.

Kakashi listened disinterestedly to vague voices in the hallway. Then, a few seconds later, the door slid open again and shut a little harder than necessary.

"… Kakashi…"

The three-year-old's breath caught for an instant and his heart started beating faster. His hands clenched the fabric of his blanket. That voice… painfully familiar. He'd never expected to hear it again. Slowly, reluctantly, he raised his eyes to look at the somber figure of his father.

The tall man was frowning down at him, but his eyes were soft and sad, not the angry, hateful eyes his son had imagined. The eyes he'd seen the other day. Instead, they made him want to cry for a whole other reason, only his tears were all dried up.

"D-daddy…" he whimpered. He hesitated for a moment before holding his arms out for the man. He didn't care if it looked foolish or needy; he wanted to be held, to know that his daddy still cared for him, a little at least.

The man hesitated as well. His hands seemed too bloody with recent sins to embrace his son. But the painful look on the little boy's face pulled him forward and he held him tightly, desperate arms ringed around his own neck. He ran a hand through the child's errant silver hair soothingly.

"I… I'm sorry, daddy," the tears finally returned and Kakashi started crying again, "I didn't mean for… I didn't know it would… I'm so sorry—please don't hate me, daddy!"

Sakumo's guilt deepened at the pleading, desperate voice of his son. It was his fault he felt this way, too. He shouldn't have left him alone for so long. What was a boy supposed to think when his father willingly stayed away for days at a time?

"Kakashi…" he whispered again, his own voice husky with tears he refused to let fall. He had to be strong—someone had to.

"It wasn't your fault… none of it was," he assured the boy, "I don't hate you, you're the most precious person I have."

Kakashi looked up hopefully, eyes shining with tears, "Then… then you won't make me live with jisan? Or at the orp, no… orphanage?"

"No… no… of course not," Sakumo rubbed the boy's back, then hesitated, "You… don't want to live with Jiraiya, do you?"

Kakashi resumed his crying and buried his head in his father's shirt, "No, no, no!" He cried miserably, "I want to go home and live with you, daddy! Please!"

Sakumo was at a loss to understand why he would after what he'd seen the other day. What kind of kid wanted to live with a murderer? A monster? But he whispered soothingly anyway, "Shh… It's okay, Kakashi… we'll go home together once you're better."

Kakashi sniffed and hiccupped, trying to stop the torrent of tears that just kept coming.

Eventually the three-year-old cried himself to sleep and Sakumo gently pried the arms from his neck and tucked his son into his bed. He stared down at the sleeping face of his son, cheeks and eyes red from crying. Still, he looked peaceful.

He left the room to find Jiraiya leaning against the wall, still waiting faithfully. He couldn't believe how good of a friend he'd found—he certainly didn't deserve it. He quickly derailed that line of thinking; he didn't feel like he deserved anything at the moment and knew he would have to get his depression under control if he wanted to continue being a good father to his son. And Kakashi did deserve a good father. A better father than he could be, maybe, but he would have to do his best.

"How'd it go?" The white-haired sannin asked casually.

"I don't know what I did to deserve him," Sakumo let slip without meaning to. Jiraiya had always had that disarming effect on him—it was one of the reasons the two were such fast friends.

Jiraiya scoffed, "You deserve him more than anyone else," he said disapprovingly, "If you haven't done enough to deserve a loving kid no one in the human race has."

Sakumo chose not to argue—as if one could reason with the sannin. Besides, in the end all that mattered was what Kakashi wanted.


	2. My Father's Pride

The Meaning of Death

_R. Winters_

2. My Father's Pride

Background: (No need to read if you know Kakashi Gaiden.) During the Third Great Secret War, Hatake Sakumo was assigned a mission along with his team that, if it succeeded, would have meant a stop to the war. The mission proved more deadly than imagined and Sakumo had the difficult choice between saving his teammates and completing the mission. He chose the lives of his teammates and the Secret War become more violent and bloody than ever. It is uncertain when, exactly, this event occurred, however it is noted that Kakashi's father committed suicide while Kakashi was still as young as seven.

Thanks for your kind reviews (and what do you know, Kakashi's mom _did_ have the same name as Sasuke's... what a coincidence!) I hope you find this equally as enjoyable/moving. If you were hoping for something more in between... well, I may eventually come out with a separate story following Kakashi's early childhood...

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. If I did there would be a shinobi named Aguri... but that's a completely different story.

Continuing in the theme of Important Deaths in Kakashi's Life, I give you the second chapter of TMD.

Very briefly (in case you have any confusion):

_These are thoughts_

'_These are voices in the background... or voices from memory.'_

"These are just your normal, average quotations."

Enough said.

* * *

'_Look, it's the White Fang's son.'_

'_I feel sorry for him, that traitor for a father.'_

'_Apple never falls far from the tree, I say.'_

'_Something's always been off 'bout their whole clan.'_

'_And they still made him a shinobi, can you believe it?'_

'_The sooner they're dead, the better.'_

Kakashi tried to ignore the whispers as he passed through town. It was like torture. They thought he couldn't hear them, but, of course, he heard every word they said. He pretended it didn't bother him, but the scars on his heart just built up.

So Kakashi was glad when he reached the quiet stretch of street that led to his house. He stopped by the gate to pick up their name plate—someone had torn it down again. He tried to pretend he was used to it, it didn't bother him anymore, but such obvious hatred from the people you fought every day to protect… it was hard.

His light footfalls went unnoticed on the old cobblestones running through the nearly abandoned Hatake complex. It had never seemed so large and empty. Kakashi wearily entered his house. He reached up to pull down his mask, then froze.

That smell. It was quickly becoming familiar to the six-year-old and it made his stomach lurch uncomfortably.

The bitter smell of blood.

He paused a moment, breathing out loud to steady his shaky breaths, but he wasn't able to calm his frantic heart. Quietly, he followed his nose down the hall until he stopped before the closed door of his father's study.

He couldn't hear anything over the loud thumping of his heart in his ears. He stared at the door for a long moment, fearful and anxious about what was behind it.

"D-dad?" He called uncertainly. He didn't expect to be answered, even if there was nothing wrong with his elder, and he wasn't.

His hand reached out and Kakashi cursed his weakness as he observed the shaking limb.

_It's probably nothing._

He was probably just being paranoid.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Kakashi slid the door open.

The entire image was bared to his wide eyes, blood and entrails and the pale, gray face of what was once a brilliant legend.

"Dad!" Kakashi exclaimed, running inside, knowing from his own experiences that it was too late for anything.

* * *

Minato heard from Aguri who heard from Sachi who heard from Mitsu who heard from Hiroshi who had been one of those of the Konoha Police present. At first he couldn't believe it, but the other shinobi had been insistent.

'_They say it was suicide… yeah, sepukku…'_

While admittedly, he hadn't known the man well, the Yellow Flash found it hard to believe anyone would go that way. He found it even harder to believe anyone would abandon their six-year-old son like that.

'_Of course, we all know he wasn't in his right mind…'_

He had known that, of course. Everyone knew the White Fang hadn't been in his right mind. Not since that time. It had been painfully obvious to the teacher of his son, who constantly dealt with the repercussions felt by the young boy.

'_Still, it's a shame… but what a way to go—this'll make gossip for years.'_

Minato really wished that weren't true. Because gossip about Sakumo meant gossip about Kakashi. It always meant gossip about Kakashi. The boy had had enough of that kind of gossip already, ever since that time.

There were still police lingering around the house when he arrived, wearing the familiar uniforms bearing the red and white seal of the Uchiha clan. Of course, most of them were Uchiha. But no one had seen _'the kid'_ for more than an hour. One had the gall to suggest he'd gone to the river to drown himself. Minato felt the broken nose was well deserved and the police captain seemed to agree.

Kakashi was doing as good a job as ever, hiding his chakra. But Minato didn't need chakra to find his wayward student. Not after spending so much time with him. It was an easy job to find him, and even easier to scale the tree, the tallest tree in the massive Hatake garden, green and vibrant as a sharp contrast to the last heir of the dead family.

He needed to talk, Minato thought, but the man didn't say anything. Kakashi knew he was there and he didn't want to push him before he was ready. After all, it had been maybe five hours since it happened. The pain would still be fresh.

"I know he was affected by… what people were saying about him…" Kakashi's voice was quiet and Minato doubted he'd have been able to hear it from the ground. "What people were saying… about me…"

There was a long silence and Minato didn't interrupt it.

"So much blood…" Kakashi mused quietly, his tone labored and husky from tears that wouldn't fall from his tired, red eyes. "He must have been lying there, bleeding for hours… is what the med-nin said…"

"… If I'd gotten there sooner… He wasn't even an hour cold when I found him… If I hadn't stopped to mess with that weird Guy…" Kakashi's words trailed off quietly.

"It wasn't your fault, Kakashi-kun," Minato said softly, feeling the need to say it now rather than keep quiet, "None of it was your fault."

Kakashi's laugh sounded painful and forced, "It's never my fault, is it? I fail again and again and…" He trailed off, unable to continue.

Another lengthy silence was drawn out.

"… It's a weakness, isn't it?" The boy asked at length, "To have people you care about… Dad… he never was the same after that time… Protecting his _'precious people'_ became more important than anything… And in the end, that's what caused his death, isn't it?"

"… In a way… I'm fortunate…" Kakashi mused resignedly, "I've seen my father's mistakes…"

"Kakashi… do you really believe that?" Minato wondered sadly.

"He should have been more focused that time," Kakashi said, regurgitating words he'd heard over and over. "Hokage-sama had already made it clear that the lives of the team were secondary to the success of the mission."

"Kakashi…" Minato was at a loss for words. What had happened to the little boy who wanted to become a ninja more than anything—to protect his loved ones?

"Sensei… a shinobi should devote himself to his 'kage and his village," Kakashi stated, too tired to argue against the point when it was so much easier to give in, "If he doesn't he'll end up with a… conflict of interests and get someone killed."

Minato sighed. "Kakashi… while that is all true… a shinobi with precious people… people to protect… gains strength from his desire to protect those people…" He smiled slightly, "That is what Sarutobi-sama refers to as the 'Spirit of Fire'."

Kakashi leaned his head back against the bark of the tree tiredly and didn't respond. While his sensei's words sounded nice, the others had the strength of the majority behind them. While his sensei's words seemed true, a man's death seemed to indicate differently.

* * *

'_Look, it's the White Fang's son.'_

'_Did you hear what happened?'_

'_That poor boy…'_

'_Those Hatake—they always come to a bad end.'_

'_But the stress of having such a young son fighting in the war…!'_

'_The heir, too, they say…'_

Kakashi clenched his fists at his sides, pretending he couldn't hear their voices.

'_The White Fang…'_

'_Hatake Sakumo…'_

'_That poor boy…'_

Kakashi clenched his jaw. He'd make them forget. Forget about his disgraceful past and see only the proud shinobi he would become.

'_A shinobi who fails his mission is called trash.'_

'_A shinobi that doesn't follow the rules is garbage.'_

'_A shinobi is nothing more than a tool.'_

The mistake his father made was to believe that the rules didn't apply to him. Or that the rules only applied in certain situations. But Kakashi knew the rules. And he had learnt the lesson of his father well.

'_Shinobi Rule #8. Hesitation means death.'_

'_Shinobi Rule #17. Never question orders.'_

'_Shinobi Rule #25. Never show emotions.'

* * *

_

Kakashi stared morosely at the rain hitting the ground. Just to have something to look at that wasn't the picture in the frame—a painful reminder of his father's fall from glory. Just to have something to look at that wasn't the sparse company of shinobi and civilians—the surprising few that would show their faces at a coward's funeral.

He could remember standing there with his father on a day very much like to day, long ago. It seemed like long ago. He couldn't remember much but he did remember the large crowd that had appeared to honor her.

'_Daddy… all these people know mama?'_

It hurt to see that people would hold their grievances against the dead so flippantly. Kakashi didn't see any of those _'precious people'_ his father had thrown his reputation—ultimately, his life—away for. None of his so-called friends had come to respect him for his sacrifice. His foolish sacrifice.

'_Many people… loved and respected your mother… Kakashi. See…? They have all come to honor her one last time.'_

Nobody honored the fallen heroes. The Hokage had made a brief appearance much earlier. Kakashi had recognized one or two shinobi who worked with the White Fang in the past—but they, too, only quickly passed through, as though afraid someone might see him. A handful of curious civilians with nothing better to do stopped briefly, whispering to each other as they left.

'_The White Fang…?'_

'_I heard about him.'_

'_The reason we're still at war is because of him, they say.'_

'_Hmph. Good riddance, I say.'_

A hand squeezed his shoulder and Kakashi looked up. His sensei had also come, to accompany him. Kakashi wondered whether the man worried for his reputation at all, being here. He could have come by himself, he was nearly seven. He had told his sensei as much, but the man had just smiled sadly at him and insisted.

'_I should pay my respects, also, since he gave me such a proud student.'_

Kakashi knew he was just being nice but the comment had pleased him all the same. He looked down again, his gaze crossing the picture he'd been trying so hard not to look at all day. It was the picture from his files. The masked White Fang stood in it looking bored and haughty, silver hair unmanageable and the hilt of a sword just visible over one shoulder. Kakashi would have given anything to see his father like that again.

He looked around the empty street. Even Jiraiya and the other Sannin hadn't appeared. Though they'd grown up and went to the Academy together with his father. And Jiraiya, his best friend. Kakashi hadn't seen him since it happened.

'_Shinobi Rule #25…'_

Kakashi bit his lower lip under his mask, trying to block off the flood of negative emotions even as they threatened to overwhelm him.

It was like with his father, they too had died. _Or maybe,_ Kakashi thought, _It was I who died with him._

'_Never show emotion.'_

"Sensei… can we go now?" Kakashi asked coolly, the lump in his throat having been pummeled down.

Minato looked down at him sadly. _Someday… you'll regret being so eager to leave, Kakashi…_

"Just a little longer," the blonde said lightly.

Kakashi looked down again, watching the rain land in the mud just so he wouldn't have to look at where he was.

'_Daddy, I want to stay with you!'_

There was more whispering again. Civilians weren't very good at being unobtrusive in their gossiping. Even the most asinine shinobi wouldn't let himself be overheard saying things like that at another's funeral.

Annoyed, Minato turned, ready to tell those people just where they could put their crass little comments. Kakashi caught his sleeve.

"I don't care what they say, sensei," the six-year-old said softly. It wasn't as though he hadn't heard it all before. Over and over by people he admired more than those.

"Please… I don't want to be here anymore…"

Minato sighed and nodded, taking the boy's hand; he made sure to send the civilians the dirtiest glare they'd ever received as he led Kakashi away. The Jounin felt some twisted satisfaction when the civilians abruptly shut up and scattered like squirrels from an explosive tag.

The pair walked in silence back to the clan district. It wasn't until they stood in front of his house that Kakashi spoke.

"Sensei… do you think anyone will… remember me when I die?"

Minato scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well… I suppose… that depends on what you do with your life, Kakashi-kun…"

Kakashi nodded in acknowledgement.

* * *

'_Look, it's that boy again…'_

'_A genius, I'm told.'_

'_They say his parents died when he was young.'_

'_A demon on the job, I've heard.'_

'_That cold look in his eyes and he's so young…'_

Kakashi pretended not to hear them as he walked down the street. How quickly they had forgotten.


	3. My Enemy's Bane

The Meaning of Death

_R. Winters_

3. My Enemy's Bane

First, a quick thanks to everyone who reviewed or put this on their favs/alerts. Makes me feel appreciated and encouraged. Which in turn gives me a big head--I mean! Makes me update sooner! Yeah, right...

If you read this... Let me know how you like the action scene. In the past I've been pretty lousy with these, so I've been trying to improve.

Also, in response to questions about whether/when I'm going to update... Check out my bio! At the end of it, I have all my stories listed; including when/if I'm going to update them. Also, I'll be sure to say so when I reach the last chapter (which I haven't), and change the story setting to the "completed" section.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. If I did, Sakumo wouldn't be a character mentioned once with a full back shot. We'd get a whole mini-series about him. And everyone would hate me for getting off of the main plot.

Things you'd like to know:

_Thoughts are in italics. But the flashback's in italics, too. (It's all in the mind.)_

Guest starring:

Shibi Aburame: goes on to be Shino's dad, age approximated at 17 at this time.

Yoshino Nara: goes on to be Shikamaru's mom, age approximated at 15 at this time.

Raido Namiashi: goes on to be horribly scarred on his face, age approximated at 14 at this time.

(Ages are based on their supposed ages in the series relative to Kakashi's age.)

On another note, I'm estimating Minato's age at 19 at this time (which puts him at 17 when he first started teaching Kakashi...)

* * *

"Sensei," Kakashi started in that slow, even voice that made his teacher want to cringe because he knew what was coming. A complaint. 

A complaint backed up with a nice lecture explaining why it was a valid complaint. All of this given in the cool monotone of a particularly intimidating Academy teacher. And coming from a little boy barely half the man's height. Sometimes the man wondered which one of them in this relationship lectured more—the student or the teacher.

Kakashi wasn't wearing his mask, alone as they were inside their shared apartment. The boy's unhappy frown compounded his young appearance. The man knew better than to call it a pout—even in the relative safety of his own mind.

"I have been a Chuunin now for three months," the boy began coolly, "I've completed every mission I've been assigned with complete success and I even had my seventh birthday a few weeks ago."

_Here it comes_, Minato thought with some trepidation.

"Why haven't I been assigned any B-ranked missions, yet?" The boy asked unhappily, "Or even a C-ranked solo mission? Most of the missions we're given I could handle on my own, sensei. And I'm sure, with the war, the Hokage could really use you for higher ranked missions."

The boy paused in his lecture, frowning steadily at his teacher and clearly expecting some kind of support.

The blonde awkwardly scratched the back of his head—was there an appropriate way to tell a Chuunin that he was presumed too young to take on the full load of responsibilities that came with his rank? After all, he had proven he had the necessary skills already by passing the exams.

Or was there a delicate way to bring up concerns over the boy's emotional state? After all, it had still only been weeks since his father's death and Minato—and the Hokage, for that matter—didn't believe for a moment that the boy could be as "fine" as he claimed to be. Especially given the rumor mill of Konoha, which was still churning out irritating stories about the deceased man and his newly orphaned son.

These were the kinds of things that hadn't been mentioned in the one hour teacher orientation Minato had slept through before being assigned a Genin team.

"Well…" The Jounin started in a reasonable and carefully diplomatic tone, "You bring up some good points, Kakashi-kun."

"It just isn't fair," Kakashi continued. Somehow, from the seven-year-old's lips, the cliché didn't seem as childish as it always did whenever Minato used it.

"The Hokage is the one who gave me this rank," the boy continued, tone as even as ever without a trace of whining, "Why did he promote me if he was just going to continue treating me like some rookie Genin? I'm capable of a lot more than that, but I can't prove it to him if he won't give me the chance."

Minato held back a sigh—why did kids always want to grow up so fast? He wanted to smack his student upside the head and tell him to enjoy his youth… But then, Kakashi had been well past enjoying his youth when they'd met—he was already far more grown up than most people gave him credit for.

"I will relate your concerns to the Hokage, Kakashi," the man promised with resignation.

Kakashi stared at him a moment, eyebrows drawn slightly together. He nodded at length, seeming to accept his teacher's answer, and pulled his mask up in a quick motion before leaving the table they'd been seated at.

"I'm going to the training field," the youth called back—Minato didn't need to ask which one—"I'll meet you at the tower at ten for our mission, sensei."

The boy paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder with a baleful expression and half-lidded eyes, "Try not to be late this time, sensei."

Minato frowned, "I haven't been late the last five times we met, Kakashi! I think it's a little unfair to hold it against me when I'm usually on time."

"Mm," the youth commented noncommittally, "But I have found that when I say that phrase you're statistically more likely to come on time."

Then he was out the door, giving his teacher no time to respond.

* * *

"Man, that sucked!" A boy with spiky brown hair complained loudly, hands shoved into his pockets as he sulked along the almost invisible trail he and his companions were following. "I thought coming so close to the border we'd at least get to _see_ some fighting! But, nooo! Hizashi-san had to meet us _all the way out here_! Just so we wouldn't get to have any fun! I don't care if it _was_ only a C-ranked mission! We should have gotten more than just that—it was _boring_!" 

"… Isn't it true that you, yourself, Raido, have never been to the border… Even on missions with Daiki-san?" A tall boy asked coolly from behind the high collar of an off-white jacket. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes and the bit of his visible face betrayed no emotion.

"Don't say it like that, Shibi!" The younger boy complained, "It's just because we've had other important missions that haven't taken us to the war! After all, even while the war is important and is a large ground of employment for us shinobi, there are other requests within Fire Country that we still have to see to."

"I bet it's just because you complain so much," a girl, slightly older than the boy returned. She had short black hair and her features were twisted a little in irritation.

"I wouldn't complain so much if they showed me a little respect!" Raido shot back, "I've been a Chuunin for almost a year now and I've only had a few B-ranked missions! They're completely wasting my talent—it's not fair!"

The girl sighed, "Raido…" Abruptly she swung a fist at him—which Raido, obviously well used to this behavior, nimbly avoided. "Stop complaining! It's a good thing that we didn't run into the enemy!"

"… You're too noisy…" Kakashi said with annoyance, unable to help himself any more as their arguing reached new volumes.

"Oh!" The girl abruptly turned to face him, her annoyed features smoothing away as she smiled—it was as though she hadn't heard his words at all. "Are you tired, Kakashi-chan? We could stop and rest, we're far enough from the border now that it should be okay."

Kakashi didn't answer for several seconds as he forced down his exasperation—did she _have _to treat him like some little kid? (Never mind that she must have been twice his age.) At last he trusted himself to speak and replied tersely, "I am fine, Yoshino-san."

"Hey…" Raido started slowly, frowning at the younger boy, "I'll bet it's because he came along that the Hokage didn't give us a better mission! We should get paid for two missions! One for babysitting and the other for delivering those orders!"

This time Raido didn't even see the fist coming until it connected with the side of his head. "Stop being such a jerk, Raido!" Yoshino roared, "Kakashi can't help it that he's littler than you! And you shouldn't pick on little kids, anyway!"

Kakashi's mood darkened that much.

"Kami, Yoshino! You don't need to get so angry!" Raido shouted back, wincing as his hand felt his injury, "I was just saying!"

"Well, you shouldn't have!" Yoshino retorted, "How do you think Kakashi-chan feels about this? It's his mission, too!"

"Come on!" Raido shouted indignantly, "You were thinking the same thing! I know it!"

The young Chuunin was forced to evade another punch. Yoshino, being more irritated than usual, hit him again on a subsequent attempt the boy hadn't been expecting.

By now Kakashi was glowering at the path again. He'd suspected as much, of course, that the Hokage was giving them an easy mission because he thought Kakashi was too young to do anything dangerous, but he didn't dare admit it out loud.

The two teammates were still arguing loudly when Kakashi noticed a strange scent that immediately put him on guard. It took him a moment to identify it, then he recalled the smell of Iwagakure—he'd been there for his Chuunin exam—all spice, dust, and iron.

He began to feel just a little nervous—if it smelt like Iwagakure it was probably Rock-nin and his sensei wasn't anywhere around—not that he couldn't take care of himself.

Kakashi looked at his companions. Raido and Yoshino were still at it and didn't seem to have noticed anything.

"Be quiet," Shibi demanded abruptly, though the Aburame didn't look any more tense than usual.

The other two Chuunin fell silent mostly from surprise and their captain continued in a voice that was lower than usual.

"We are no longer alone," he stated calmly.

Raido glanced around nervously at the trees and brush that suddenly looked threatening, "You mean like…"

The older teen gave a sharp nod, "My sentries have identified at least five enemies closing on our position." He turned his head slightly to the side and added, "Kakashi… you noticed them, too, did you not?"

Kakashi nodded somberly, all his previous annoyance driven from his mind, "They're from Iwagakure," he muttered, "I recognize the scent from the Chuunin exams."

"What are we going to do?" Yoshino asked with a frown, protectively moving a little closer to Kakashi and scanning the forest around them carefully as they continued to walk.

"We have no choice," Shibi stated coolly, "It is our duty to intercept and eliminate any enemy-nin in Fire Country." His head turned ever so slightly back towards his other two teammates, "It looks like you will finally experience the action you have wished for."

The older boy didn't give Raido a chance to respond, "Raido, Yoshino, you will take the three on the right. I will dispatch the two coming on our left," he paused a second before adding, "Kakashi, you will follow me."

"They come!" No sooner had the words left the elder Chuunin's mouth than the five enemy-nin suddenly shot out from the canopy of dark under the trees in blurs of motion. Kakashi had only a moment to feel the sting of not being included in the plans of his teammates before they were locked in mortal combat.

Insects swarmed around Shibi and his two opponents as the Leaf Chuunin held his enemies skillfully at bay. Raido and Yoshino were having a bit more difficulty with their three opponents, but it was obvious they had worked together before as they held their own against the superior force. Kakashi's ears twitched for any sign of additional enemies, but even in his heightened state of alarm he only sensed the four shinobi that dropped out of the trees an instant before they were upon them.

Shibi pulled his attention away from the two shinobi his bugs were draining in time to meet the new arrivals head-on. Raido and Yoshino were overwhelmed by the opposition. They had managed to incapacitate their original three opponents—Kakashi couldn't tell whether they were dead or not—but Yoshino was soon knocked out by the surprise backup and Raido wasn't much better off, barely defending himself and his fallen teammate with a kunai wound making his dominant arm useless.

Kakashi took all of this in within an instant before he swiftly went to the aid of his teammates. One Rock-nin barred his path, apparently having been delegated to deal with the pest, if the look of distaste on his face was any indication. Kakashi didn't pause, racing straight towards him.

With a move the Rock-nin might have been able to follow if he'd been taking his much younger and smaller opponent seriously, Kakashi was suddenly at his side, sweeping the larger shinobi's legs from under him and letting gravity do the work of knocking him out, at least temporarily, as he crashed heavily to the ground.

Raido cried out as his other arm was impaled on a sword, taking away his last defense. The Rock-nin pulled his sword free roughly in preparation for a finishing blow and Kakashi pushed himself to move even faster, sliding his tanto from the sheath on his back even as he closed the distance between them. He thrust forward, intercepting the other shinobi's blade with barely enough force to turn it away inches from Raido's pale face.

The Rock-nin, a young man that Kakashi mentally estimated to be about Shibi's age, turned to Kakashi with a snarl, "Little boys should stay out of the business of their elders," he growled. Then he smirked cruelly, "Stay back, chibi, and I'll give you a quick, painless death after I deal with your friends."

"Kakashi!" Raido cried, "Run back to Konoha and get help!"

Kakashi snorted, "By the time we returned you would be dead and these guys would be long gone." He met the Rock-nin's eyes with his own hardened gaze, "And I'm not your ordinary little boy. You'll regret it if you underestimate me."

"Kakashi!" Raido yelled in alarm as the Rock-nin, easily three times the seven-year-old's weight, swung down at the boy in anger.

Kakashi blocked, but the older shinobi's sword was only slowed, not stopped, as he used his full weight. Kakashi took a step backwards, sweating, as his shaking arm muscles tried to hold their own against the much larger opponent.

Shibi had just finished with one of the other shinobi and started running to his aid, but was intercepted by the last Rock-nin. Kakashi's breath was ragged as the swords bore down on him, his muscles aching painfully and the gleaming blades only inches from his face.

"It's useless, chibi, you're no match for me," the Rock-nin taunted. "I think I'll cut off your arms first… maybe I'll let you bleed to death while I finish off your companions…" The shinobi trailed off, his eyes widening in horror.

White hot chakra began to lick up Kakashi's sword blade like flame. It formed around the boy's whole body as well, making him appear to be wreathed in the silver-white flames.

"You talk too much," Kakashi grunted before pushing against the Rock-nin's sword. The white chakra cut through the other boy's sword like butter and the Rock-nin stumbled back, eyes wide and a fearful expression on his face.

Kakashi didn't even pause before he brought his sword around again—smoothly cutting through the other shinobi's body, chest to hip. Blood sprayed out, raining on the seven-year-old and the two Chuunin behind him.

For a moment he just stood there, staring at the remains of his opponent, breathing heavily as the rush of adrenaline started to fade and the white chakra disappeared. He felt strangely numb and didn't even start in surprise when a hand landed on his shoulder, shortly followed by Shibi's voice.

"… You did what was necessary," the older Chuunin stated—some part of Kakashi's mind that was still working properly idly translated this to mean: Good job.

Behind him, Raido struggled to his feet, staring at Kakashi uneasily before hastily looking away. He needn't have been worried, Kakashi didn't really notice.

"… I will carry Yoshino back to the village," Shibi said, limping over to where the girl lay, "Another team can be sent to confirm our kills."

The rest of the walk was a somber one, with only the two older boys ever breaking the silence, and then only in low whispers that never reached back to Kakashi.

* * *

_Sakumo frowned down at the five-year-old. Kakashi stubbornly returned the frown, although on his childish face it looked more like a pout (which his father would never tell him looked adorable, for fear of his life). His hands were clutching a somewhat wrinkled sheet of paper that had definitely seen better days._

"… _It isn't very fun, you know," the man stated casually, before glancing to his right slightly, "Jiraiya knows, after all, since he only just returned." He shot his friend a pointed look. The meaning was plain: Agree with me or die._

_The white-haired toad-summoner was lounging on his friend's couch, drinking sake and pretending that he wasn't taking in the entire argument unfolding in front of him with great amusement. Being a shinobi, he was very good at this. But, also being a shinobi, Sakumo was very good at seeing through this._

"_Hmm?" The other man asked innocently enough, as though he didn't realize Sakumo had seen right through his ploy of being blind to all around him. Sakumo's eyes narrowed in a glare and the sannin dropped the act with a grin._

"_Oh! Oh—yeah! That!" He agreed enthusiastically, "There's nothing at all exciting about it! Actually, usually we spend all day playing with sticks in the mud—" here his expression changed to a very somber one as he regarded the five-year-old, "You wouldn't like it at all, Kashi." _

_He completely ruined the moment by winking, and nearly earning a beating from Sakumo for his trouble—the man barely restrained himself, eyebrow twitching._

_Kakashi regarded the sannin dubiously for a moment before stubbornly turning back to his father, "It can't be less fun than the Academy," he stated, thrusting the paper towards Sakumo again._

_The man frowned, "It really isn't very pleasant, Kakashi," he insisted, "I've seen shinobi older than you—young Chuunin and Genin, even—freeze on the field after killing a man. I've seen them break down; right there in the middle of the fighting… it isn't a game, Kakashi."_

_Jiraiya nodded soberly, "More often, their adrenaline carries them through the fight. But once that's gone, when they're back at camp, it all suddenly hits them at once. They get pretty messed up out there. I've seen kids try to end their own lives, they felt so miserable. Kids who cry to themselves for hours—very annoying when you're trying to sleep…" He paused for a moment and nodded._

"_Your dad's right, Kashi, it isn't a nice place," Jiraiya continued seriously, "Plus, there's all the guys that are dying on our side. If you're out there, maybe it will be you. Maybe it'll be one of your friends, which can be even worse."_

"_I don't care!" Kakashi returned stubbornly, shoving the paper at his father yet again, "I know it's not a game! And all that other stuff, it just makes me want to do it more!"_

"_Kakashi…" Sakumo started with exasperation._

_The five-year-old glared up at him stubbornly, "Because that's what you and Ji-ji do all the time! Because, if I can help, then maybe you won't have to do it so much!"_

_Sakumo stared down at the glowering boy in thoughtful silence, which drug on for nearly a minute. Kakashi was sure his father was about to refuse his request—he couldn't think of any arguments the man hadn't yet tried to use to talk him out of it—all that was left was for him to put his foot down._

"_I'm ready for this, dad," he added insistently._

_There was another long silence. Then, with a sigh, Sakumo took the paper and pulled out a pen as his son and friend watched in disbelief. He finished his signature with a flourish and held the paper out again to Kakashi, but didn't let go when the boy grabbed it._

"_Now, Kakashi, you understand that this doesn't make you a ninja," Sakumo said carefully, "You still will have to pass whatever tests are given to you."_

_Kakashi nodded, "I know. I will."_

"_And… if you don't pass," Sakumo continued, "I expect you to behave honorably and go back to your class without complaint."_

"…" _Kakashi frowned impatiently at the man._

"_Also, in such a case," Sakumo continued, "You will not be allowed to retake the graduation exams for another year."_

"_I know all that, daddy," Kakashi returned sincerely, "But none of it matters because I'm going to pass."_

_His father released the paper and Kakashi hurried from the room as though he feared Sakumo would change his mind and take his signature back if he lingered. But he was just outside, still close enough to hear Jiraiya's next comment, which made him pause at the bottom of the stairs._

"_You really think that's a good idea, Sakumo?"_

"… _It's true that Kakashi is talented for his age… But even "The Professor" didn't graduate until he was eight… I don't think we have to worry about Kakashi for some time, yet."

* * *

_

His face void of any outward sign of emotion, Kakashi stared up at the building.

_Dad… _

The boy let out an annoyed sigh and shoved his hands in his pockets.

_Why am I even here? Of all places? _

Because the apartment felt so empty when sensei wasn't there. Because he was exhausted of dealing with other people and needed someplace quiet. Because maybe—just maybe—he missed his father. Only a little.

The boy's eyes widened and he started in surprise when the front door slid open, his father's tall figure filling the frame. The man smiled, just a little in that sad way he remembered, and raked a hand through the untidy strands of white hair not long enough to be tied back.

Kakashi blinked. And just like that the man was gone.

For an instant, confusion flared in his mind, and then he realized it. The man hadn't been there at all. Of course he hadn't—he was dead.

_Why did I come here!_ He thought with irritation, _Idiot!_

He was about to turn away—there was no reason for him to stay, he didn't want to be here—when a hand landed on his shoulder. The boy stiffened and spun around quickly, hand racing for the tanto on his back and heart pounding in his chest.

The Rock-nin grinned cruelly at him, just before his blood exploded from his chest—but only for the instant it took him to realize it wasn't the Rock-nin at all. Of course it wasn't.

He let his hand fall back to his side empty, but still couldn't force himself to completely relax.

"Sandaime-sama thought you might be here," the man said, smiling awkwardly and scratching the back of his head.

Kakashi's eyes narrowed slightly, _meddling old man._

Minato laughed, as though reading the boy's thoughts, "It isn't like he just came out and told me, Kakashi! I went back home first, but when you weren't there I went back in and asked whether you had returned from your mission—that's when he told me."

The seven-year-old didn't appear at all appeased by this information.

"Ah… well, I heard your mission was a success, at least," the man continued proudly, "And you saved the lives of two of your teammates. You've certainly proved yourself."

Kakashi snorted softly and the man's goofy expression melted away.

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it, Kakashi…" He continued seriously, "It's… a difficult thing to talk about."

"Talk about what?" The boy responded sharply, "About how I killed that man? Ironic, isn't it, sensei, how one man's greatest failure becomes another's greatest accomplishment?"

Minato blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the words, "Ah… well…"

"It makes sense, I suppose, how easily it came to me. After all, my whole life up until now has been about death. The death of ancestors I never knew, the death of a mother I can't remember, the death of my father and our proud family name with him."

"Ah…" Minato started uncertainly—Kakashi was looking at him expectantly with those dark, half-lidded eyes and he didn't have any fantasies of getting out of this without responding. "I don't think anything like that makes it any easier, Kakashi-kun… That is…"

Frantically searching for something to say, Minato noticed the blood still staining the youth's uniform. He hadn't really taken it in before since blood-stained uniforms were quite usual among the shinobi—many Jounin joked that the rust-colored stains were actually a mandatory part of the uniform. Others boldly claimed that everyone would be wearing them in a few years—Minato shuddered to think they might be right.

"Oh, Kakashi, you haven't rested properly since your return, have you?" He asked with a slight frown, "Why don't we stop at the baths on the way back to the apartment…" He trailed off under his student's annoyed gaze.

"I don't need to be told when to bathe and go to bed, sensei," Kakashi stated tersely, "I can take care of myself. I have been for years. It is only on the Hokage's orders that I reside in your apartment—it doesn't make you my father."

Minato was too stunned to retort for several seconds and the boy walked coldly past him and out the gate to the main road. The Jounin turned as he recovered himself and snapped, "Kakashi!"

The boy stopped but didn't turn around.

"I'm not _trying_ to be your father!" The blonde continued—although maybe he was, just a little—"You don't need a baby-sitter, Kakashi! But you _do_ need a mentor—and that happens to be _my_ job. It's in a teacher's best interest to have healthy students, after all."

Against all reason, Kakashi felt disappointed, although he quickly pushed that feeling away. He turned back around, face as blank as ever and tone equally so.

"I simply hadn't gotten to it yet, sensei," he reported calmly. He turned away again and hesitated before speaking quietly, voice muffled further by the mask he wore, "And as for that mission… Killing… it wasn't at all like I had been taught to expect it to be… I didn't throw up and I didn't cry… I didn't feel guilty, angry, or anything like that. Neither did I feel any significant accomplishment or relief…"

Minato frowned, "So what do you feel, Kakashi?"

The seven-year-old shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing of particular interest. A shinobi is a tool for death, after all. He was an enemy; I was only fulfilling my duty and responsibility, as I should."

"…" Minato was a shinobi skilled at reading through deceit but he couldn't tell whether his student meant what he was saying or not. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Without further comment, Kakashi continued down the road. Minato looked back at the house, sighed, and then headed home himself.


	4. My Gift's Curse

The Meaning of Death

_R. Winters_

4. My Gift's Curse

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you guys--you're all delightfully twisted. This one was lots of fun. I hate Orochimaru (in the way that I just love to hate him). As you've no doubt guessed, this takes place in the aftermath of Kakashi Gaiden... (Do I need to provide a synopsis for anyone?)

Anyway, questions, as always can go to me. If you run across something confusing it's probably something I originally explained and then thought the explanation disrupted the flow of the story and decided to leave it out, hoping you guys would catch on. (Nothing terribly important, but there comes a point when you have to assume your audience can piece a little together.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. If I did, Obito would call Pukkun "Pig-kun" for which Pakkun would hate him... until he died, then he'd admit that he "wasn't so bad."

Formatting is as in previous chapters. (Which means, yes, this section at the beginning is a flashback.)

Ages: I assume that Obito and Rin are older than Kakashi. Obito's about 2 years older and Rin's 3 years older (not because she's a dumb girl, but because she spent more time training to become a med-nin in her Academy days). So, when Kakashi's 12, Obito is 14 and Rin is 15. When Kakashi's 13, Obito is/was 15 and Rin is 16.

* * *

"_Summoning no Jutsu!" The twelve-year-old slammed his hand down on the ground and kanji seals raced out from it along the ground for half a second before they became obscured in a cloud of dust._

_The boy pulled back as the dust cleared. He could only stare at the small, tan… __**thing **__that had appeared in the wake of his technique._

_He had been staring—and being stared at in return—for almost a minute when he heard someone approaching none-too-subtly through the underbrush._

"_Aren't you a Leaf-nin?" He asked coolly, not bothering to look away from the… thing. "You make so much noise that if I didn't know better I would swear you were from Suna." He rolled his eyes over to watch the older boy emerging from the trees, "Of course, that would probably insult the Sand-nin if I were to say it."_

"_Shut up!" The other boy snapped irately as he stumbled out from the woods into the clearing, trying to untangle a stubborn young vine from his leg. Once he had he wheeled around with annoyance, "Why'd you…!" He broke off abruptly as his eyes landed on the small, tan… thing._

"_What the… what the heck is that?!" He demanded, pointing wildly at the diminutive creature._

_For the first time the thing moved, shifting from its haunches to stand on all four stumpy legs. It barked—a high, yipping sound—in the general direction of the newcomer. On one end another stump—it __**could**__ have been a tail, Kakashi thought, now that he'd gotten a good look at it—began wiggling back and forth pathetically._

"_It's a dog, idiot," the white haired youth retorted, casting a disapproving glance over his shoulder, "Or haven't you ever seen one before?"_

_The dark haired boy bristled, "Of course I've seen a dog before!" His anger faded as he looked at the thing again and squatted next to Kakashi, "But are you __**really**__ sure __**that's**__ a dog…? It looks… really ugly."_

_He reached out a hand towards the thing and it promptly clamped its small mouth on his finger._

"_Ah!" He shook his hand desperately but the thing wouldn't let go, growling in its throat, "Kakashi! Get it off!"_

_The younger boy scowled, "It's what you deserve for insulting him," he stated coolly, "Maybe if you apologize, he'll let go on his own."_

"_Apologize?!" The raven-haired youth demanded, "To a—a—a whatever this is?! Ow!"_

_Kakashi shrugged and stood, "It's your hand." He paused a beat and then added, "It will be interesting to see if you can still throw kunai with only four fingers."_

_He started out of the clearing casually and threw over his shoulder, "Of course, you couldn't get much worse."_

"_Kakashi!" The other boy yelled, still trying desperately to shake the thing from his finger, "Where are you going?! Don't just leave me here!"

* * *

_

_The two boys sat side-by-side at a small, rectangular table full of books. On the right, Kakashi held his usual aloof demeanor. To his left, Obito was still fuming, one finger bulging in its bandages and glaring angrily at the pages of the book open in front of him._

"_I don't see why I have to help you," the dark haired boy complained petulantly, "I don't care __**what**__ kind of dog that little monster is!"_

'_That little monster' was currently sniffing around under the table, paying no heed to the two boys._

"_A favor for a favor," Kakashi replied coolly, not looking up, "I got him to let go so now you owe me. Keep looking."_

"_I really don't think it's a dog, anyway," Obito grumbled, "More like it's a really ugly pig—ow!" He pushed his chair back to glare at the dog and lift his feet onto his chair. "Stupid pig," he grumbled, pouting at the scratches on his toes._

_Kakashi ignored him._

"_Hey, guys, what're you up to?" A cheerful voice asked, causing the pair to look up._

_Obito grinned, immediately forgetting his injured foot, "Oh! Hey, Rin! I'm just helping out Kakashi—he can't do anything without me, you know."_

_Kakashi rolled his eyes._

"_Oh, really? What are you looking up?" Rin asked, leaning over to get a look at the books they had out, "Ninken?"_

"_Yeah," Obito confirmed, then thrust a finger toward the tiny monster under the desk. He scowled at it, "Kakashi thinks __**that**__ ugly little thing is a ninken. I don't think it's even a __**dog**__."_

"_Huh?" Rin crouched down to get a better look at the small creature, who barked loudly at Obito, as if in reply to his comment._

"_Hey! Watch it, Rin! Don't get so close!" Obito yelped as she reached for it, "That thing's a monster! It'll take your fingers right off!"_

_Rin ignored him and picked it up. A small, pink tongue emerged from the folds of skin around its mouth as it licked its chops. Rin squealed, "Oh! He's so cute!"_

_The dog wagged its stump of a tail happily and yipped once._

"_Kakashi, he's yours?" Rin asked, gently massaging the puppy's back._

_The boy nodded, then smirked across at Obito, "It looks like it's just you he hates. Must be a pretty smart dog."_

_Obito scowled, "Don't say things like that, jerk!"_

"_Your creativity never ceases to amaze me," Kakashi mused dryly._

"_I don't get why you don't like him, Obito," Rin said with amusement, interrupting their bickering, "I think he's really sweet."_

"_Stupid little pig," Obito grumbled unhappily._

_Rin looked at Kakashi, who had gone back to his book. "Oh!" She said, "You wanted to know what kind of dog this is, didn't you?"_

_Kakashi looked up and Obito asked, in wonder, "What? You've seen that kind of dog before, Rin?"_

"_My aunt has two of them," Rin confirmed with a nod, "It's called a pug." She frowned slightly, "But I don't think you'll find them in any of those books, Kakashi, I've never heard of using a pug as a ninken before." She held the little dog out towards his owner._

_Kakashi took him—the puppy wagged his tail happily and yipped. "Then I guess I'll have the first," Kakashi commented, "Isn't that right, Pug-kun?"_

_The dog yipped happily, its stub of a tail wagging wildly as Obito complained that the dog really did look more like a pig._

"_That thing'll never make a good ninken," the Uchiha muttered contemptibly.

* * *

_

The bitter smell of blood clung to him, even after a shower and a change of clothes. Kakashi absent-mindedly scratched the head of the young pug, eyes unfocused, seeing the past rather than the present.

The dog seemed content enough, until—

"Kakashi!" The small dog stood as it barked out a warning, bringing the young teenager out of his thoughts.

"What's…?" Kakashi started, but he didn't finish the thought, forced to move with a flash of speed to draw a kunai in time to block three flying towards him.

"Kakashi! Your…!" The dog started, but was cut off by Kakashi's cry of pain.

"Dammit! My blind spot!" The boy cursed, yanking the kunai from his left shoulder. He scanned the forest carefully with his uncovered eye, reaching out with all of his senses, but he couldn't find anyone.

The little dog opened his mouth for another warning but Kakashi was already moving, now that he'd been painfully reminded that he _had_ a blind spot to take into account he'd seen the shuriken coming from the corner of his good eye. He knocked them out of the air and swore as dozens more followed in their wake.

Quickly, he leapt into the air—the shuriken twisted to follow him, more, even, joining these. They all moved blindingly fast, blurring in and out of sight. Kakashi blocked the ones he could, but there were too many to follow all at once and sharp blades cut through his clothes and into his skin.

"Kakashi!" Pakkun yelped in alarm as blood dripped from his master.

Kakashi grit his teeth—the shuriken were coming around for a second go at him.

_I don't have a choice,_ he thought grimly, _I'll have to use __**that**_.

He slipped his fingers under the bandages covering his transplanted eye and ripped them off. The Sharingan swirled to life, threatening to overwhelm him with the sudden change in perception, but he was given the instant it took for him to adjust.

With movements so fast they were almost completely impossible to follow, Kakashi efficiently knocked every one of the shuriken from the air. They clattered lifelessly to the forest floor or stuck themselves into trees.

Kakashi dropped to the ground next to Pakkun, breathing heavily and tense for another attack.

A dull sound echoed through the trees and Kakashi started in surprise when he realized what it was. Applause. What was going on?!

The sound seemed to be coming from everywhere at once and Kakashi's eyes darted around to locate his hidden assailant to no avail.

"Very good, Kakashi-kun," a voice said and Kakashi whirled, lunging with his kunai only to have his wrist caught in midair.

His eyes widened at the sight of the presumed attacker, a tall, thin man with long black hair and a cruelly amused smirk on his lips that matched the light in his yellow eyes.

"Orochimaru-sama!" The boy gasped, mind racing and feeling a little dizzy from using the Sharingan. He could tell his time was fading fast.

"As I would expect," the man stated melodiously, "From one with the Sharingan."

Kakashi started to lift his free hand up to hide his eye, but the Sannin's other hand caught his wrist before it got far. Kakashi stiffened and forcefully calmed his racing heart.

"Don't cover it up," the man all but hissed in his ear, "It is a beautiful gift that your comrade left you."

Kakashi swallowed down the lump in his throat, "I have to," he said, unnerved as those yellow eyes seemed to harden a bit. "It… drains me to keep it uncovered for long," Kakashi explained awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to get away from this man—Leaf-nin or no, he was kind of creepy.

"Well now, that is a shame," Orochimaru said smoothly, "I wonder… in time, will you be able to master it? Like a true-blooded Uchiha? Or will the eye master you?"

"… I wouldn't know, Orochimaru-sama," Kakashi returned with a forced calm.

Orochimaru stared at him intently—it was getting difficult for Kakashi to return the gaze as his vision was begging to swim unsteadily. At last, the man released him.

"Cover it up, if you must," the Sannin allowed with clear distaste, "To gift the Sharingan to such an unworthy child—your comrade was a fool."

Kakashi, having ripped off his bandages, pulled his hitai-ate down to cover the eye instead. He stiffened again as the man's words broke through his exhaustion. He wasn't sure which was worse—being called a child or listening to Obito being called a fool.

"You don't understand," Kakashi said, nearly tripping over Pakkun when he took a step backwards, away from the man who was too close for his liking.

"Oh?" Orochimaru asked silkily, taking a step forward to remain uncomfortably close to the boy, "Then by all means, explain it to me, Kakashi-kun."

Kakashi felt a shiver up his spine and mastered the instinct to step back again, mindful of the small dog cowering at his heels. "He saved my life," he said finally, voice strong despite how quiet it had come out.

"And what have you done with it?" The man demanded coldly, stepping impossibly closer so that Kakashi was afraid their chests would touch if he breathed too hard, his head tilted back to continue meeting the man's cold eyes.

Kakashi couldn't find his voice to answer—he wouldn't know what to say if he could. He clenched his fists at his sides to control the shaking in his limbs.

"It would have been better if you had died," Orochimaru hissed cruelly, "And allowed the Uchiha to keep a useful heir."

Kakashi's eyes dropped and he stared at the kimono-clad chest of the man at his own eye level. He swallowed, but again didn't reply. What could he say against something that was true?

"A pointless death for a pathetic boy," Orochimaru mused, smirking coldly at the boy's nearly impassive face. Only his eye gave away the pain the man's comments instilled.

"Orochimaru," Kakashi started to argue, weakly. Orochimaru didn't let him continue.

"I could find a use for you, perhaps," the Snake Sannin said thoughtfully, as though it would be a mercy. Then he added coldly and with obvious distaste, "If you didn't already belong to that _fool_."

Kakashi's head came up at that, eye hardening with a frown, "Minato-sensei is not a—" he broke off, eye widening with fear as it met those cruel, yellow eyes.

"If you belonged to me, instead," Orochimaru added in a low, dangerous whisper. He lifted a hand to the boy's face, pausing as his fingers touched the top of his mask.

Everything within Kakashi screamed for him to run, but he couldn't move. The panic in his mind was in direct contrast to the slow breaths of his lungs and steady beat of his heart, his body refusing to listen to anything his mind told it.

Face impassive, but eyes almost lustful, the Sannin slowly peeled the material down. Revealing first the sensitive nose, then lightly colored lips and a pale chin. He tugged it down further to reveal the boy's milky neck, his hand lingering on the smooth skin, causing goose bumps to form.

He lowered his head, then paused, centimeters from the boy's throat.

"Step away from him, Orochimaru," a cold voice demanded.

For several long seconds, the Sannin didn't move. Kakashi wanted nothing more than to pull away, but his body still didn't seem to be working.

"Orochimaru!" The steel voice repeated sharply.

"Of course," the man returned smoothly, his breath hot against Kakashi's neck before he suddenly retreated.

Whatever spell had frozen him was broken and Kakashi took one shuddering breath before collapsing to his hands and knees, shaking violently and unable to hold back the tears that began to fall from both his eyes.

"Kakashi!" The voice exclaimed with concern. Kakashi flinched at the hand on his shoulder and started shaking even more.

"Orochimaru!" The cold voice snapped, the hand on Kakashi's shoulder tensing.

But the Snake Sannin had disappeared and didn't reply to the call.

Relaxing again, the hand began massaging the boy's shoulder a little, the voice gently whispering to calm the boy's fears.

After several long minutes his tears finally stopped and Kakashi saw Pakkun rubbing against one of his arms—the dog stopped to look up at him with wide, concerned black eyes. Then his shaking began to subside and he recognized the voice.

Kakashi closed his eyes, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so embarrassed. He shifted, moving away from the comforting hand—he felt a bit of regret when he lost the contact but forced it down as he straightened so he was on his knees instead of all fours.

"How are you feeling now?" Minato asked carefully, eyes on his student's back.

"Embarrassed," Kakashi replied dryly.

"Orochimaru is a powerful shinobi," Minato pointed out, Kakashi heard him shift to a standing position, "It's only natural to be afraid." He paused, then asked, "What was he trying to do, Kakashi?"

Kakashi started to stand, as well. "I don't," he broke off as a wave of dizziness hit him and his vision reeled and tilted alarmingly before going completely black.

"Kakashi!" Minato's eyes widened as his student began to fall forward and he hurried to catch him as the small pug scrambled out from underfoot.

Pakkun sniffed at his master's ankles and looked up at Minato with concern. Minato noticed him and smiled, shifting Kakashi until he was holding him in both arms.

"He'll be fine, Pakkun," the blonde offered comfortingly, "He's just worn out."

The dog hesitated, then nodded.

"Who was that man, Minato-sensei?" The pug asked, following on the man's heels as he began to walk back towards the village.

"That was the Sannin, Orochimaru," Minato said coldly.

Pakkun flinched in surprise at the man's cold voice, stopping in his tracks for a moment before he hurried to catch up again. "What did he want with Kakashi?"

"I don't know," Minato said shortly. He had his suspicions but had been told by the Sandaime that they were unfounded without proof when he'd brought them up once. He hoped the Hokage was right and the Sannin's intensity and odd behaviors was innocently based, it was terrifying to imagine a shinobi as powerful as that going insane.

The dog was silent for a moment. Then he barked, "Well! If he tries it again, I'll rip him apart!" The small dog promised aggressively.

Minato glanced down at him, almost running to keep up with the Jounin's long strides. He raised an eyebrow in amusement and smiled. "You do that, Pakkun," he agreed, masking his disbelief of the small creature, "We need to keep Kakashi safe."

"Right!" The dog barked in agreement. Somehow, he managed to get his stubby little legs to move even faster and took point, expertly leading the way to the hospital.


	5. My Teacher's Heart

The Meaning of Death

_R. Winters_

5. My Teacher's Heart

As usual, I want to start off saying thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad you all liked chapter 4! This chapter was probably the hardest to write, I was always trying to decide what was enough and what was too much. So, if you think there's not enough here... I actually wrote a little over a page of the Yondaime-vs-Kyuubi fight at the beginning... then I decided to take it out because there are so many of those things out there! But, if you're interested, I'll put it back in, so let me know.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. If I did the Yondaime would have survived, the Kyuubi would have destroyed the village, and everything would be way messed up.

Not much introduction to this chapter, everything's pretty much straight forward. As usual, if you have any questions or would like clarifications on different things I'm more than happy to answer them as I do, actually, have this entire world secretly plotted out in my mind.

* * *

Kakashi ran carelessly down muddy slopes, slipping occasionally. The rain had really started coming down now. Finally he saw where the toad had stopped, removed a relatively short distance from the fighting. It turned slightly to look at Kakashi as he paused at the edge of the clearing, its tongue was stretched up near to the Hokage and from his vantage point Kakashi could clearly see the pink flesh wrapped around something, though he couldn't tell what.

The teen's eyes widened as he saw his teacher sway unsteadily on his feet and begin to fall, as if in slow motion, forward from the toad's head. The toad, tongue already employed, could only watch. Kakashi ran forward, desperation adding to his speed as his teacher plummeted to the ground in a fall that would surely kill him.

It was close. He dove at the last second, sliding ungracefully through the sodden grass, water and mud staining what little of his clothes had still been relatively clean. But it paid off as he managed to break the man's fall, maneuvering him as they met so his neck and back were mostly protected from the impact.

Kakashi was breathing heavily as he rolled the older man off of himself and onto his back. He thought he might be crying but shinobi didn't cry and it was probably just the rain. He brushed sodden spikes of bright yellow hair from the man's face and held his head out of the mud. He was still, far too still.

"Yondaime-sama...?" Kakashi prompted breathlessly, "Sensei?"

To the teen's relief, the man's blue eyes cracked open and a small smile crossed the man's lips as he saw the anxious face of his student hovering over him.

"Ka...kashi..." The man coughed dryly, feeling cold, all the more so for the intense heat the jutsu had forced through his body.

"Don't talk," Kakashi said, brushing back the stubborn blonde spikes again, "You... just need to rest, sensei... you're just... suffering from chakra drain..." His eyes stung a little and Kakashi guessed he'd probably got mud in them from the dive because shinobi didn't cry, "Just rest until the medics arrive..."

Minato smiled sadly at his student. Kakashi didn't understand yet, what he'd done. The young man rolled his eyes, feeling tired with the drain of chakra—such a drain that he'd never felt before. His eyes finally landed on the toad towering over them, "Gama Bunta... the baby..."

Kakashi glanced up at the toad and then at his teacher in concern, "Sensei... what baby? What are you...?"

Then he saw it—or heard it, rather. The sharp cry of an infant alerted him to the fact that the toad's massive tongue was recoiling again, approaching the pair on the ground. The end was wrapped securely around a small bundle and Kakashi could only stare until a breathless grunt behind him turned his attention back to his teacher. With alarm, the teen noticed that the man was struggling to rise.

"No!" He exclaimed, quickly restraining the man, "Sensei, you need to rest!"

"It doesn't matter, Kakashi," Minato started, but the desperate look in the boy's eyes persuaded him to pretend that it did. "Kakashi... the baby..."

"Right! I'll get it, sensei, you wait here," Kakashi directed professionally, quickly rising to retrieve the squirming bundle from the boss toad's large tongue.

The infant squirmed further and began to cry louder as the fourteen-year-old awkwardly took it from the toad. He carried it back to his teacher and knelt by the man's side, not even wondering what the man had been doing with an infant on the back of the giant toad's head. He had more important things to worry about, like said man's unreasonable requests.

"Let me... let me hold him, Kakashi..." The Yondaime was again struggling to sit up.

"No," Kakashi returned firmly, his voice rose to be heard over the squalling infant, "Just... wait, sensei," he awkwardly shifted the bundle in his arms, cringing, "Later, after you've rested."

"No," the man's voice was sharp and commanding and Kakashi paused, "Kakashi, now."

The teen hesitated only a second before helping his teacher to sit up and hold the bawling infant. The baby, for some reason, quieted a little in the man's arms. Minato smiled down at it, his unsupported head lulling forward a little and shielding the infant from most of the rain.

"Sensei..." Kakashi started awkwardly—he had never been one to argue with orders, but his teacher needed to _rest_, not care for a crying baby.

"Please, Kakashi," Minato whispered, eyes still on the infant.

Kakashi felt as though a vice had clamped around his heart at the broken words and he knew. He was dying. He was killing himself. Or he already had and it just hadn't quite caught up to him yet. Whatever the case, somehow, Kakashi knew the medics wouldn't be able to help his sensei.

He watched, heart constricted in pain, as the man he admired spoke softly to the quieting infant. The Yondaime Hokage... he was called such because he was the most powerful shinobi in the village... He couldn't just die; the boy's mind wouldn't accept it... But the rain on his cheeks felt warmer than it should be and the unexplainable pain inside of him wouldn't be ignored.

"Sensei... please... the medics..." Kakashi started one last time, wishing his teacher would tell him it was going to be alright. If he said it, Kakashi would believe him, even over his own instincts.

The man looked up at him, a content—almost resigned—smile on his lips and a softness in his blue eyes. "Don't tell me... you're crying... Kakashi..." the man teased gently.

Kakashi shook his head in denial, "A shinobi never lets his tears show," he repeated lamely, wishing he could be as cool as his teacher was right now.

"That's good," Minato said vaguely, glancing down at the infant again—the baby stared back with wide blue eyes. "I don't like it when you cry..." the man continued idly—whether to Kakashi or the baby, or both, couldn't be discerned. "I like it better... when you smile."

Kakashi would smile for the rest of eternity, no matter how dumb it made him look, if he thought it would help. As it was, he thought he'd never smile again.

The Yondaime's arms shifted slightly as he tried to weakly, clumsily, lift an arm—in painful contrast to his usual graceful and sure movements. "Let me..."

Kakashi understood with no further prompting and swiftly yanked his mask down, "Sensei... you... you'll be fine..." He wanted to hear the man say it more than anything.

Minato laughed coarsely, staring at Kakashi's naked face as he stroked the infant's cheek clumsily, "You know that's not true, Kakashi," he said quietly, not wanting to pretend anymore. It would make it harder for Kakashi to accept, if he did.

"You... can't die," Kakashi said, sounding more like he was pleading than making a statement.

"It isn't all bad, Kakashi," Minato said with a gentle smile, "The village will be safe... thanks to this little guy..."

Kakashi had no idea what he was talking about now—he vaguely wondered whether the man was becoming delirious. But even that didn't matter in the light of the moment. "_You_ protected us, sensei," he protested, "You'll _still_ protect us, Hokage-sama."

Minato smiled at him, "Perhaps... in a way..."

Kakashi didn't want to hear him talk this way. It felt like losing his father all over again. In some ways, this was worse; he didn't have a shield of dishonor to hide his emotions behind this time.

"Sensei..."

"I'm proud of you, Kakashi," Minato said fondly, "You've made the Hatake name proud... You've become a strong man... It will be you who protects the village now... you and your friends."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Kakashi asked desperately, searching for even a glimmer of hope.

Minato smiled still and didn't answer. Kakashi already knew the answer.

Noise from behind him drew Kakashi's attention back to the edge of the clearing where the Sandaime was entering with some medic-nin. They approached and Kakashi didn't move from where he supported his teacher.

"Yondaime-sama..." The Sandaime started, glancing at Kakashi as he led the way down to the pair, "Is there anything we can do...?"

Kakashi lowered his eyes and shook his head, "Nothing."

The older man paused, then nodded and motioned for the medics to stand back a little. He approached the pair alone.

"Well, my friend... it appears your plan worked... the Kyuubi's body has been destroyed," the old man reported gravely. Kakashi tried not to think about what that had cost.

"Good," Minato said with a smile, "Kakashi... take the baby again..." He could feel that he was weaker than ever and wanted to see the infant safe before he passed.

Kakashi didn't argue and awkwardly took the baby into his arms, trying to keep his teacher balanced at the same time. The infant cried, tiny arms and legs flailing a bit, kicking at the blanket wrapped loosely around him.

Minato smiled as the teenager cringed, struggling with the squirming package. "Try to keep him out of the rain, Kakashi..." he advised, voice soft and tired, "And hold him gently... like a puppy. That boy's a hero..."

Kakashi shifted the infant in his arms and leaned over a little to shield it from the wind and rain. Minato smiled fondly as the infant quieted slowly.

"So... that's him..." The Sandaime said, looking down at the infant.

"Yes," Minato confirmed tiredly.

"What do you mean? Who is he?" Kakashi asked.

The man didn't answer.

"Sensei...?"

Again there was no answer.

Kakashi moved to look at the man, not caring that the infant started to cry again as rain reached it. The man's eyes were open but dull, a small, contented smile frozen on his lips. Kakashi's breath caught and the vice on his heart crushed the organ cruelly.

His mouth moved slightly but his voice didn't work. Kakashi did the only thing his devastated mind could think of. He got up and ran, not hearing the calls that followed him or the shrill cry of the baby he still held in his arms.

He wasn't sure where he was going until he stopped in front of the memorial stone, falling to his knees in the thick mud. Shinobi didn't cry so the water on his face must have been from the rain. He knelt there quietly, breathing ragged, as he tried to force his brain into some kind of working order again.

Finally the baby's cries cut through his shell of emotional upheaval and he returned to the grim reality of things. So Minato-sensei was dead. Was it rally so surprising? Idly, he shifted the baby to a more comfortable position. After all, father had died. And Obito, too. At one point it had seemed equally impossible for them, but they had gone and done it anyway.

Without meaning to, he'd thought his teacher couldn't be beat. Even when his best would fail, his teacher had always been able to pull them through it. If anyone would live forever, it would be him. But... no one could live forever. Especially, it seemed, if they were related to him.

He looked down and held the infant closer, shielding it from the elements as its whining slowly died down.

"You were special to sensei," he told it, his voice rough as though he'd been crying. "I will do what I can to protect you..." He took a deep breath of cold air, "And stay away."

The teen got stiffly to his feet and moved his mask back in place before heading back to town. He would return the infant to its parents—the Sandaime could probably take care of that as he had seemed to recognize the baby. Already his mind was working; he had another body in the ground and another promise to fulfill. And he thought he knew just where to start.

* * *

It had been overcast for days, raining off and on. That morning it started with just one rain drop, falling on the glass inside the frame that all were looking at.

Well... almost all, Rin amended, her gaze crossing to her teammate. Her old teammate. The boy—and really, he was still a boy, Rin told herself, despite everything. He was only fourteen, after all.

He was looking detached, aloof, as usual. Like he wasn't in attendance at the biggest funeral of the decade. Like he didn't know—or care—that their sensei was dead. Like the man who had taught them so much... was just some stranger.

Admittedly, it irritated the girl. He'd been like this at Obito's funeral, too, she remembered. But he had cried when the other boy died, that time... Thinking back on it now, she realized that it might have been a purely physical response to the pain of her operation. This thought angered her further and she quickly turned away, fighting down the irritation which had no place here. Of course he cared—he _had _to.

The rain was coming down at a slow, steady pace by now. Her father opened an umbrella, holding it over her and her mother as well. Others were doing the same and Rin found her gaze unwillingly drawn back to Kakashi.

No one opened an umbrella for the young Jounin. He hadn't brought one for himself, either, and the rain drops hit him consistently. But if he noticed, he paid them no more mind than to the goings on around him. They gave the illusion that he was crying, the girl noticed, the rain drops did, landing on his face and rolling down the small patch of visible skin to soak into his mask... Or maybe he'd been crying all along and she hadn't noticed until now.

She thought back to Obito's funeral. It had been raining then, too. As now, Kakashi hadn't opened an umbrella, or even brought one. It struck her as strange since he always seemed to be so prepared on missions. But sensei had been standing close by and had opened an umbrella for the both of them.

Only now she realized how strange it was, that he had showed up all alone. Or maybe it was strange that he had shown up at all. She could understand at Obito's funeral. It hadn't been large and Kakashi's parents could have easily been away. But that was a very slim possibility now—nearly the entire village was in attendance.

It occurred to her how little she knew about him. Even after so many years of working together. Now that she thought about it she realized there was a very real possibility that one—even both—of the younger boy's parents were dead. He had never spoken of them and she couldn't imagine Kakashi mentioning something like that.

Finally, as though he'd known she was staring at him, Kakashi turned his head, only slightly, to look at her with one, dead, black eye. Rin blushed slightly at being caught and quickly averted her gaze back to her teacher's picture.

The rain was coming now in a steady drizzle and the service was just wrapping up. She found her eyes filling with tears despite herself as her eyes fell on the somber looking man in the photo—a picture she and Kakashi had made a constant job of pointing out to the young Hokage that shared no resemblance to his actual appearance.

She wondered, with him gone, what would become of Team Yellow Flash. She was under no misgivings that the dinners they occasionally caught together or the outings they would go on, even if no longer really a team, were no idea of Kakashi's. She hadn't even seen him since it happened. Still, Rin didn't think she was quite ready to lose that final link to her early days.

Again, Rin chanced a look at Kakashi, only to start in surprise to find he wasn't where she had last seen him. She gazed thoroughly through the masses, but he wasn't among them at all and she reluctantly accepted the conclusion that he had left early. And as soon as the service ended, only a minute later, she found out why.

People she didn't even know approached to murmur their condolences over the loss of her teacher. Shinobi and civilian alike. Kakashi, she knew, wouldn't have stood for that. She, herself, was having a hard time dealing with it, too, and hastily made excuses to her parents and the others before slipping away from the crowd.

* * *

"I knew I'd find you here," Rin said, approaching the memorial stone, "Because of Obito, right?"

Kakashi gave no sign that he'd even noticed her arrival, but she knew that he'd heard. She stepped up next to him, fingertips lightly brushing over her teacher's name, newly added.

"What are you thinking about all of this, Kakashi?" She asked sadly, staring at the name, "You were closer to him than Obito or me."

Any remaining thoughts of Kakashi not caring had left when she realized where she was. He came here so often, it was impossible to say he didn't care, in his own, quiet way. After all, he was the perfect shinobi in all other respects, it only made sense he would be one when grieving, as well.

Kakashi stared dully at the black stone and his lips moved without his consent, "It doesn't feel real..."

The words were barely above a whisper and Rin didn't move, afraid that if she did he might remember himself and bottle his feelings up again.

"He's..." Kakashi was still speaking quietly, Rin wasn't sure that he was even aware that he was speaking out loud, "Always been there... since the day I graduated..." Kakashi swallowed thickly, it hurt even to remember the good times.

"You graduated young, didn't you?" Rin asked softly, "You must have been only seven or eight."

Kakashi smirked wryly under his mask, "I was five."

Rin's eyes widened slightly in surprise and she tried to imagine a five-year-old Genin. Then again, this was Kakashi, so he probably hadn't acted like a normal five-year-old. He didn't even act like a normal fourteen-year-old.

Rin smiled a little, testing the shaky ground of their conversation carefully, "Sensei..." Kakashi didn't show any outwards appearance of having heard her, "I thought he was so weird the first time I met him... talking about ramen and ice cream and Hokage."

Kakashi's eyes met hers for a second and Rin was surprised to see a hint of confusion, "You thought that he was weird?"

"Didn't you?" Rin wondered. Kakashi looked away and she saw a slight flush on his face.

"From the first time I met him..." Kakashi hesitated, thinking about that time, back when he was so young and naïve, hurt something not entirely physical inside of him.

"What did you think of him?" Rin prompted gently, seeing how hard this was for the younger shinobi... somehow, she thought it was important, as well. He needed someone to talk to and she was his teammate. Why shouldn't it be her?

"... I thought he was cool," Kakashi admitted, his voice quiet and embarrassed and just a little rueful. He continued, as though to justify himself, "Sometimes he was a little goofy... but even then... somehow he managed to look cool even when he was acting like an idiot."

Rin smiled at the flustered teen and was suddenly stricken by how young he really was, even after everything. Underneath the shinobi, somewhere, he was only fourteen years old.

"That's just like a boy," she said lightly, trying to ease the atmosphere a little, "My brothers idolized our dad for the longest time. They'd even say that he was cool when he was making corny jokes or stupid expressions..."

Kakashi frowned thoughtfully, looking across at the girl's sad smile. He knew what she had to be thinking about—her two older brothers had died in the attack—but she was able to speak about them to him so freely... It was strange, they had never talked much about things after Obito... it was a little uncomfortable, but not as awkward as he would have imagined it to be.

Somehow, he found the words leaving his mouth before he even realized what he was saying.

"I lived with him." When Rin looked at him in surprise he flushed slightly, self-conscious suddenly.

"You lived with him?" The girl repeated, "Even back when we were Genin?"

Reluctantly, Kakashi nodded and elaborated, "Since I was seven... we lived together until he was married last year..." He shifted awkwardly, "He wanted me to stay, of course, but it would have been really weird to live with a girl."

Rin couldn't help but gape—and not only because of the childish seeming statement the boy genius had just made. "How come you never said anything?" She asked, choosing to address the safest issue.

Kakashi shrugged, seemingly comfortable again, "No one asked. It wasn't anything important."

"So you moved in with him because he was your sensei?" Rin wondered, "I never even would have guessed. You guys almost never arrived for training at the same time..." She paused, looking over at the boy with a new sense of understanding—to lose someone you shared a home with for six years, "This must be really hard for you."

Even as she said it, Rin knew it was the wrong thing to say. Kakashi was a shinobi and he never accepted pity from anyone, even if she hadn't meant to be condescending at all. She could almost see the shutters close as his face drained of emotion.

"That's the life of a shinobi," the boy said coolly, "Death is as natural as life... maybe more so."

Rin shifted uncomfortably and quickly sought for a change of subject, "So... what have you been doing the last couple of days? I haven't seen you around town... Of course, I've mostly been around the hospital."

"I've been busy," the boy replied vaguely, tone still cool.

"Doing what?" Rin asked—most of the shinobi had stuck close to the village, helping in clean-up and recovery until the memorial service.

"Testing."

"Testing?" Rin echoed, baffled by the cold response, "You're already a Jounin, so for what...?"

Kakashi didn't say anything and she suddenly realized what these tests must have been for. The only thing a Jounin would still have to test for.

"ANBU?" She asked with concern, "You're joining ANBU? Why? Aren't you too young?"

ANBU, the shinobi black-ops, were notoriously strong and deadly. Most ANBU recruits died within the first month of their training and didn't last for more than five years—whether they resigned or simply disappeared. The psychological pressure in that unit was said to be more extreme even than the Hokage's position.

"... A lot of people died in the attack," Kakashi stated vaguely.

"Especially in black-ops," Rin finished the thought for him, "You really joined ANBU?"

Kakashi didn't answer. ANBU wasn't spoken of outside its ranks. Most civilians didn't even realize it existed, and to the uninitiated shinobi it was more like a myth than anything real. The whole organization was shrouded in mystery to the outsider and the governments refused to even acknowledge the existence of the controversial group.

In the Kyuubi attack the ANBU ranks had been cut to no more than a quarter of their normal size, making them the hardest hit group in the village. Some, like the tracker and assassination units had been wiped out almost completely, and it was these Kakashi had been given a choice between.

He had chosen assassination for two reasons. Assassin-nin were left unspoken of even among the ANBU ranks and were always the hardest ranks to fill. Beyond that, few shinobi remained in their ranks for more than two or three years.

Assassin-nin also almost always worked solo. It was usually one shinobi, one target, with occasional partners in difficult missions. To Kakashi, it seemed like the ideal placement given both his exceptional skill and ill luck. And the perfect place to begin work on his newest promise.

He glanced across at the older girl again. Rin looked very disturbed still, staring at him and appearing close to tears. Kakashi was reasonably sure that, being a shinobi, she wouldn't cry over something like this... but, still, kunoichi were notoriously more emotional than the male shinobi.

"Don't worry about me," he said, and it came out colder than he'd meant it to.

"How can I not?" Rin asked, "Kakashi... we were teammates...! And I thought we were friends..."

The boy's eyes widened in alarm—but it passed so quickly that Rin wasn't sure she hadn't just imagined it. Then the teen turned his back on her.

"You were wrong," Kakashi stated coldly, "We weren't... we could never be friends."

Rin felt indignant over that until her eyes, trained to notice the slight changes in body posture (rudimentary lessons for med-nin as some shinobi could be quite stubborn when it came to admitting they were hurt), spotted the tension in the boy's shoulders. The stiff way he held himself. Her expression darkened.

"No, you don't, Hatake Kakashi!" She snapped angrily, "Just because... just because of Obito and Sensei... you can't get rid of me just because of that! You need a friend, Kakashi, even if you don't want to admit it! And I need one, too, one who can understand what I've been through."

"You don't get it," Kakashi said, voice rough and strained and back still to her, "If you stay close to me... you'll die."

"Everyone dies sometime," Rin returned coldly.

Kakashi whirled on her and Rin was surprised to see more emotion in his features than she ever had before, bar none. Anger, exasperation and desperate sorrow all intermingled so thoroughly she doubted even he could sort them out.

"It's not like that!" The teen raged, "Everyone close to me dies before their time! I kill them, Rin, because I'm too stupid or slow or _useless_ to save them! I can't protect you!"

Rin was taken aback only for a moment, and once that moment passed, anger took its place. The girl lost her temper completely for the first time since Obito died—how could this _genius_ really be so arrogant to think like that?

Letting loose, Rin hit the boy. And it was no little love-tap, either. She punched the living daylight out of him, throwing him back into a nearby tree with such force that his body splintered the bark and he grunted in pain.

"What do you think I am, Kakashi?!" She shouted, "Some pathetic little girl who needs protection?" Kakashi didn't reply, although whether that was because he still hadn't caught his breath after having it violently knocked out of him or because he honestly had no answer couldn't be said.

"I'm a kunoichi, Kakashi!" Rin snapped, "And a damn good one, too! I can take care of myself; I don't need some macho man looking after me!" She made an infuriated noise and stalked over to him, her face still dark as she crouched beside him.

Kakashi had gathered enough of his wits to flinch away when she reached towards him and Rin sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you, Kakashi," she said, her voice soft again now, "I'm a medic-nin, remember?"

The boy eyed her warily but held himself still as she examined him. He let out a hiss of breath when she touched cracked ribs and the girl winced in sympathy, suddenly feeling very guilty for hitting him. Quickly, she performed a medical jutsu and began healing the bones.

"Kami, Kakashi, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... I mean, I was just trying to knock some sense into you, you know?" She rambled nervously as she worked, acutely aware of his blank gaze looking right past her, "I didn't mean to actually... you know... _hurt_ you... but you sounded like such an idiot saying those things..."

Kakashi sighed, both in irritation and relief as the pain drained away. Scowling, he still didn't look at her, "It's not the first time I've had cracked ribs, you know."

If anything, the kunoichi looked even guiltier, "I know..." She murmured, "But... how does your back feel? Is it okay?"

The Jounin carefully got to his feet, his back ached and his newly healed ribs stung, but there wasn't much even a medic could do about that. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" Rin pressed, "We can go to the hospital—there's more I can do there." The guilt of hurting her teammate—_Kakashi_, of all people!—was tearing her up.

"I'm fine," Kakashi replied a little more sharply than before.

Slightly abated, Rin stepped back, then frowned as she recalled their previous line of conversation, "But you do get what I'm saying, don't you?" She pressed, "I don't need you to protect me, just to be my friend."

Kakashi looked at her, his expression veiled, and Rin found herself wishing—not for the first time—that she knew what was going on in that head of his.

"Are you going to hit me again if I say no?"

Rin looked down miserably and shook her head. She waited for him to leave, but didn't hear any movement. Reluctantly, she raised her head to find him still standing in front of her, one eyebrow raised and something indefinable in his uncovered eye.

_Was that..._ "A joke...?" Rin wondered out loud—when had Kakashi started making jokes?

The boy just grunted and disappeared into the forest, leaving Rin to wonder silently on what this meant.


	6. My Life's End

The Meaning of Death

_R. Winters_

6. My Life's End

Well, here's the LAST CHAPTER. Thanks for sticking with me and reviewing. This story was unusual for me in that I didn't have it all typed up before I posted it (heck, when I posted the first chapter, I thought it was a one-shot!).

A lot of you thought Rin was like Sakura... I was kind of surprised, because I don't see that much of a similarity... sure, a little, about as much as that Obito is similar to Naruto and Kakashi to Sasuke, I guess... But, sure, the fact that they're somewhat similar is good, I guess. After all, they're both competent kunoichi/medic-nin.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. If I did, I would make a whole side-show solely regarding the ANBU. Because black-ops are awesome.

This chapter, I think, is the perfect ending to this story. It's full of the angst we all know and love and it leaves me, at least, satisfied that Kakashi is well on the track to becoming the aloof Jounin-sensei in the series. It really leaves me with no question that this is the last chapter. I mean, I like the story and all and almost wish I could write more in this series... but it's just so... over. Anyway, let me know how you like it!

* * *

The day started out normally enough for the young ANBU Captain, WOLF.

At a quarter past nine he dragged himself out of bed, never mind that he hadn't gotten in until four in the morning. Still half-asleep, he absently scratched the head of Yonka—a sleek, brown haired bitch—when she shifted in her sleep on his bed. She cracked an eye halfway open and offered him a tired yawn before contentedly drifting off again.

WOLF stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, stripping off the filthy uniform he hadn't bothered to change out of the night—morning, really—before. More than once he ran into trouble as the caked mud and blood clung to his skin, but after a few minutes he managed to rid himself of the offensive clothes.

He turned to get into the shower and paused, reflection catching his eye in the mirror. Half-lidded, mismatched eyes slowly roamed over his face in the glass, carefully following every curve and feature, dancing across the short hairs that had cropped up on his chin, reminding the drowsy teenager he would need to shave again—and no wonder, it had been nearly a month.

Finally, he tore his eyes away and stepped into the steaming confines of his shower. He flinched slightly as scalding water struck his skin, but didn't bother to adjust it to a more reasonable temperature. Instead he just stood under the fall of water, basking in the mixture of pain and comfort the hot water brought to his tense muscles.

Eventually he lathered up with soap and washed the last tell-tale signs of his mission away; paying special care to a cut on his leg and a few bruises that darkened his skin. He heard the dogs beginning to move around in the other room and took that as his cue to get out; shutting off the water that still ran hot despite the large amount he had used.

He grabbed a clean towel from the rack and made short work of drying himself off before he wrapped the towel around his waste and made his way back into his apartment proper. He dressed quickly, stuffing his porcelain mask in one of his vest pockets and finishing his ensemble by pulling a clean mask up over his nose and tilting his hitai-ate over his left eye.

He set food out for the dogs and shut off the television, ignoring Pakkun's complaint at the latter action. Finally, he was ready to face the village.

The boy paused, eyes falling on the single, framed photograph beside his bed.

… Maybe not.

He reached out and tipped the photo down on its face, carefully so as not knick the frame, then left.

Konoha was already well into its morning business hours and the streets were crowded. The sun was bright and birds sang out cheerful songs from rooftops and tree branches.

Kakashi paid attention to none of this, as usual, as he sped his way out of town via the rooftops to the small hill where the formidable black stone stood in memory of those who had fallen in duty.

Painful reminders of how he'd failed so many times were followed by the renewal of vows he'd made to the dead.

_I will make the Hatake name proud, father._

Never mind that the man's name wasn't on the stone.

_I will protect this village, my friends and comrades with my life, sensei._

Just like he had.

_I will take care of Rin… Obito…_

Because it was his fault he couldn't.

* * *

By the time he left, easily an hour later, his stomach was churning fiercely and he headed back into town, stopping at the bakery to purchase a warm meat dumpling on the way to Ninja Administration.

He sat at one of the small tables to eat his meal and took out a pen and paper, quickly scribbling a concise, illegible report of his last mission—the illegibility helped to dissuade questions, he'd found. He finished both pastry and report simultaneously and headed again for his destination, stopping only to help an old lady pick up her morning's shopping, which had spilt all over the ground—he'd had to raise an eyebrow at the elderly woman when he caught the title on a vividly orange book she'd procured, and was a little disturbed when she'd winked at him as he handed it to her.

Ninja Administration was the same as always, experiencing its usual lunch time lull between eleven and one. Kakashi strode up to the missions table and handed over his report—after hastily stuffing it into the required envelope marked "Hokage's eyes only" and sheepishly telling the Chuunin on duty he'd forgotten to do so earlier. The Chuunin, used to Kakashi's 'forgetting', just rolled his eyes and accepted the meager report before digging out a sealed envelope with his name on it and an indicator that labeled it as a _Secret A-Class_ mission.

Kakashi slid the envelope into an inner pocket on his vest for later perusal, when he was somewhere private. Then he gave the Chuunin a lazy salute—which was returned much more respectfully—and turned to leave. Only to find Gai standing _right there._

Maito Gai, also known as Might Guy, was never a person Kakashi wanted to run into during the day, when he could see. It was one of the reasons he preferred to pick up his missions around noon; the ever-enthusiastic, and badly dressed, 'Green Beast' of Konoha always came in early and would be well underway on his own mission by then.

Kakashi's sudden distress was choked off abruptly as he realized that Konoha's ever-enthusiastic Green Beast wasn't acting, well, enthusiastic. The other boy, slightly taller than Kakashi, wore a serious frown and had a strange, intense gleam in his eyes, along with a few tears glistening in the corners of them, if Kakashi wasn't mistaken. (And he never was.)

There was no usual blinding grin, no thumbs up or 'casual' wave (Kakashi didn't believe Gai really understood the meaning of the word 'casual'). No forthcoming challenge or rowdy greeting to his self-proclaimed 'Eternal Rival'.

The young Hatake was becoming irrationally worried when Gai, in all his new-found sobriety, placed a hand on his shoulder. Kakashi's mind abruptly jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Was Gai dying?! Did his gigantic eyebrows give him some sort of terminal disease that would have him bed-ridden and weak before he finally succumbed to death?! Kakashi didn't shrug off the hand, the only outward sign of his growing alarm.

Gai just looked at him, dark eyes filled with somber, quiet pain. The boy in green gave Kakashi's shoulder a brief squeeze before turning and leaving the room. Kakashi stared after him for a moment before following.

Gai was waiting around the corner of the building, off of the main road in an ally that allotted them some semblance of privacy. Kakashi approached him reluctantly, an irrational trepidation settling into his gut.

He didn't even _like_ Gai, what did he care if he _died_?! But, somehow, he did. Not that he'd let the other boy know that, dying or not.

"Kakashi… my rival…" Gai's voice held none of its usual bravado, "I had hoped you would come."

"Gai…" Kakashi started, not at all sure what he was planning to say.

Gai's somber frowned quirked a little, into a weak smirk, "I didn't want to appear presumptuous in there, but I am pleased that you sought me out, my rival… my friend…"

Kakashi uncomfortably shoved his hands in his pockets—if Gai was going to get all sappy on him, he'd kick his ass, terminal or not. He did _not_ want to get emotional with a man in green spandex.

"You try being strong, in your Youthful Pride you hide your pain"—what was Gai talking about now?—"There is no reason to be ashamed of your feelings, Kakashi! No one will think less of you, here—feel free to release your Tremulous Emotions on me! We will weep like men together!"

Kakashi stared at the other shinobi in horror as Gai held his arms out as if to embrace him—there was no way in _hell_ Kakashi was going to _hug_ a man in _green spandex_! Apparently touched by his own speech, Gai had tears running down his cheeks already and Kakashi found he didn't care any more if he was terminal or not.

"I'm not going to hug you," Kakashi stated sharply, "Even if you _are_ dying."

Gai blinked and his tears vanished abruptly. He stared at Kakashi. "Kakashi… Why would you say such a cold thing? To suggest that I would be dying…"

"Oh, you're not?" Kakashi asked, managing to make his surprise sound like dull disappointment. What was all this about, then?!

"So cruel!" Gai lamented, shaking his fist at an imaginary figure to his right, tears in his eyes again.

Kakashi sighed, "Gai… What is this about? You're acting weirder than usual."

The Green Beast's mood experienced an abrupt 180 and Gai turned on him, livid, "How do you justify acting so cool in light of what has happened?" He demanded, "Even you, cool though you are, should show something for your teammate's death!"

Kakashi felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. Blood drained from his face and his eyes dilated in shock as the image of a bloody, broken girl danced in front of him. He couldn't hear Gai's continued ranting or how it changed abruptly to concern when the Green Beast noticed his rival's shocked state.

And then Kakashi was gone.

* * *

The young Jounin burst through the hospital's doors and was at the front desk by the time anyone managed to look for the disturbance. Tension was rolling off of him in fierce waves and even doctors and nurses gave him a wide berth, civilian patients standing back warily.

The woman behind the counter looked at him in surprise, "Ah… Hatake-san…" She started uncertainly.

"Where is she?" Kakashi demanded in a feral growl, knowing and not caring that he was focusing a killing intent on the poor woman now.

"I… uh…" She stammered falteringly.

"Saverin Rin!" Kakashi snapped, "Is she here?"

The nurse could only stammer further in reply.

"Excuse me," a cold voice behind Kakashi interceded, "What's going on here?"

Kakashi turned away from the useless nurse and toward the male medic-nin instead. "Rin!" He demanded again, "Where is she?!"

The man took a stumbling step backwards at the intensity of Kakashi's glare and stammered for a reply.

"R-room 138, sir!" The nurse yelped out, having located the patient in question while the Jounin's wrath was distracted, "But, Hatake-san…!"

Kakashi was already racing down the halls, not paying the traumatized medics any further attention.

* * *

Room 138 was dark. Cold, too, Kakashi thought as he entered the room. It reeked of too much sanitizer and was absolutely still but for the red light blinking on a machine on the wall.

His eyes landed on the only occupied table—there were no beds, only a series of cold, metal tables. He stared at human-shaped lump under the sheet, covered from head to toe. Kakashi didn't realize that his breathing had grown ragged, but he absently rubbed at his hitai-ate—underneath it the Sharingan was stinging.

He told himself to calm down and stepped fully into the room, sliding the door closed behind him. The sound of it connecting with its frame was near deafening in the otherwise suffocating silence.

Dim light filtered in through the white curtains, enough for the Jounin to see by. He stepped forward until he was beside the bed, each of his nearly silent footsteps echoing loudly in his ears.

He stared down at the still, covered form, barely able to breathe, and yanked down his stifling mask abruptly. It didn't help.

He reached for the sheets slowly, imagining that his hand wasn't shaking. Slowly, he drew it down.

Light brown hair, a bit dull, already losing its luster, but most assuredly the shade of Rin's hair. Disturbing pale, almost gray skin as a smooth forehead showed.

Kakashi couldn't take the suspense; he didn't think he'd be able to hold on long enough at this rate. He pulled the sheet back fully in one motion and stared in horror at the dead—_definitely_ dead—body before him.

She looked content. Kakashi couldn't see any signs of how she died on her face or upper body. He might have convinced himself she was sleeping—had he been ten years younger.

But there it was. She _was_ dead. Kakashi reached under his hitai-ate to wipe some tears away. He didn't remove the forehead protector. Obito didn't need to see this.

Kakashi forced himself to breathe and swallowed down the lump in his throat as every promise he'd made shattered around him.

He didn't move when the door opened again—in truth, he hardly noticed it.

Gai stepped into the room quietly, telling off the concerned medic-nin with a soft, "I'll handle this."

He had come as soon as he realized the probable reason for his rival's aloofness. He hadn't known—that had hit the young teen particularly hard. He hadn't exactly broken it gently. If he'd known… He looked across the room.

The white haired boy stood tense over the body of his teammate and Gai could almost feel the confused emotions rolling off of him. Such a stark difference to his normally collected, emotionless rival.

Carefully—for his rival was unpredictable at the best of times—Gai stepped silently towards him, extending a hand to rest on the other's shoulder in a display of manly comfort. "Kakashi…"

Almost before the hand had connected, Kakashi whirled, striking the green clad boy full on in the face with a punch that sent Gai sailing into the wall with a loud impact, cracking plaster and showering the victim with dust and debris. Immediately the door slammed open and three concerned medics stood uncertainly in the doorway, balking at the intense killing intent that was thick in the air and extremely glad it wasn't focused at them—Kakashi hadn't appeared to notice them.

Gai struggled up from where he'd fallen, rubbing his jaw—his rival was certainly working out. He watched the other boy warily but Kakashi didn't make any other move towards him, although his seething anger was palpable. Gai reluctantly admitted that he quite possibly deserved that punch for his insensitive words spoken in ignorance earlier.

Gai was one of the few people left in the village who could _begin_ to understand Sharingan no Kakashi, but even he started in surprise when he realized the anger wasn't directed at him at all. He looked to the medics as Kakashi finally turned away again, the shorter boy shaking almost imperceptibly.

"Leave us," Gai growled towards the med-nin.

They hesitated, a brave young man speaking uncertainly, "But… Gai-san," he began only to be interrupted.

"I said I'll handle it!" Gai snapped in a low tone so as not to disturb his grieving friend.

The medics nodded reluctantly and left the two Jounin alone again.

Kakashi had moved and was now standing at the other side of the room, shaking as he stared down at the photograph held in his hand. His other hand was clenched into a fist at his side and everything about him screamed how tense he was. Still, Gai approached, willing to risk getting slugged again if he could offer any help.

"Kakashi…" This time he didn't try to touch him—as much as he wanted to comfort the other boy, he wasn't suicidal.

"Damn them," Kakashi's voice was harsh, feral in a way Gai had never heard before. It almost sounded like he'd been crying, but his cheeks were dry even if his eye wasn't completely. "Damn those bastards… I'll kill them."

It was all he could do, Kakashi thought. And Gai certainly understood the motive.

"You can't," the green clad Jounin stated reluctantly.

Kakashi didn't move, but his cold, black eye slid over to his companion with copious amounts of killing intent—enough to make the Green Beast fearful of his life.

"I'll _kill_ them, Gai," Kakashi repeated firmly—Gai imagined he would kill them very painfully, too. Well, he would, if he could, that is.

Gai shook his head somberly, "I'm sorry Kakashi, but the retrieval team killed all aggressors."

And with that Kakashi's one last redemption was stolen away. He turned back to the photo, a grisly picture of how his teammate had looked before the healers had made her presentable. She hadn't just been killed—she'd been tortured. That much was obvious.

"Obito…" He whispered the name under his breath, uncomfortably aware of Gai's presence behind him, "I broke my promise…"

He took a shuddering breath, trying to get a hold on his frayed emotions. _What ever happened to Shinobi rule 25?_

His hands fisted around the photograph, crumpling the image. Out of all his team, Rin, ironically enough, had been the only one he hadn't been there for as she died, and the only one he'd promised to always be there for. All of his talk of protecting the Leaf—protecting _Rin_—was a farce. In the end, he wasn't even there to hear her last words.

Anger faded slowly to leave only depression in its wake.

"Gai…" He started, strained, pausing a moment to force his voice back to casual tones, "The retrieval team… who was on it." His tone was dead, even blanker than it usually was.

Gai hesitated, trying to measure the change in the other boy's attitude, and whether or not it would mean his death. "… I was on it, Kakashi," he stated—he wouldn't risk telling his rival who the others were. Not while he was still so obviously unstable.

A brief flash of surprise appeared in Kakashi's eye. Gai might have felt triumph at it if he weren't in such a dire position. Kakashi might do anything from weep out undying gratitude to try and murder him—Gai suspected something closer to the latter, himself.

Gai was a little surprised, therefore, when Kakashi simply nodded and turned away again. When he spoke his voice was calm, having regained reign on his emotions, or, at least, on all outward signs of his emotions. Even the shaking in his hands had stopped.

"Did she… say anything… before she died?" Kakashi asked quietly.

Gai shifted uncomfortably. He really didn't want to reveal her last words to his rival, even if it was his right as her teammate.

"Gai," Kakashi prompted firmly, glancing at the other teen.

Gai sighed and told himself he didn't really have a choice.

"She wasn't entirely with us," he said somberly, "Even when she was awake…" He hesitated again and Kakashi nodded for him to continue. "She… mostly she called for people… for… Obito… and her sensei… and for you, Kakashi."

Kakashi was absolutely still, betraying no outward hint of how he was taking this. Inside, the pit in his stomach grew larger, more painful. She had called for him and he hadn't come, hadn't even known.

Gai reluctantly continued, "In… in her more lucid moments, she recognized me… she asked me not to let you blame yourself… she said she wanted you to be happy… to live for her…" Even to Gai it seemed like an unreasonable request to place on a grieving man.

Kakashi's blood was cold. He heard the words as if they were coming from her… those bruised and bloody lips in the photograph. One eye swollen shut, the other filled with tearful pleading.

_Damn it, Rin… Why don't you hate me? Why didn't you ever hate me? After I failed you so many times. First with Obito… Sensei… and now this…_

But he had gotten what he wanted. One last request. One last promise to fight for.

Rin's wish—it would be far more difficult than any of the others. But he had to try because there was nothing else he could do. He couldn't turn back time and save her. He couldn't even avenge her, as it was his place to do. All he could do was try his best to fulfill his most challenging promise yet.

To make proud the name Hatake.

To protect his teammates.

To protect his village.

To live for the dead.

That was his Nindo. His way of the Ninja.

"Kakashi…?" Gai asked hesitantly. His rival hadn't spoken for several minutes and he was growing concerned.

"Gai…" Kakashi had forgotten the other boy was there.

_No better time to start than now._

He slowly reached into the inner pocket of his vest and pulled out the as-of-yet unopened orders he'd received earlier, placing them in the bewildered Jounin's hand. Then he forced a smile—he couldn't remember the last time he smiled—his uncovered eye curved with the movement.

"Please let Hokage-sama know that I won't be available for any more of this type of mission," Kakashi said concisely.

Gai looked down at the envelope and then at his rival, possibly more concerned by this than any other reaction the teen could have had. "Kakashi, what…?" He trailed off, staring at the unnatural curve of the other's lips. Somehow, Kakashi's smile didn't seem comforting at all; it was fake, a disturbing mockery of the love and joy behind the sincere expression.

"Thanks, Gai," Kakashi said lightly, sliding his mask up in one quick motion and striding past his stunned rival and out the door.

Gai clenched his fist around the scroll. His rival… was so cool!

* * *

_Rin paused before entering the clearing. She smiled slightly, a bitter-sweet smile. He was there, uniform still bloody after just returning from a mission._

_She walked up behind him—he didn't turn. "Kakashi… your arm…" his ANBU mask must have been packed away in one of the pockets in his vest, as he was still in uniform._

"… _It's nothing," Kakashi replied coolly, in the same manner he always did._

"_Still…" Rin said, forming the seals of a healing Jutsu. She gently pushed the healing energy into the crudely bandaged flesh wound, "You need to take better care of yourself, Kakashi."_

"_I would have changed it when I got home," the boy replied coolly. Finally, he turned from the stone to look at her, "You're leaving?" She always came here before she left town._

_Rin nodded, "I just came to tell Obito and sensei… I didn't know you were back already…"_

_Kakashi nodded and turned back to the stone, "I just arrived."_

_Rin smiled, "Well… now I can say goodbye to you, too."_

"… _Is it a very dangerous mission?" Kakashi asked after a thoughtful moment._

"_Hmm… Not __so__ dangerous," the girl replied, although, at twenty, she was really more of a woman, if still unmarried. "Not like __your__ missions, Kakashi."_

_Kakashi nodded shortly, "Good luck. Come back safe."_

"_Don't I always?" Rin asked sweetly, pleased that he was showing some concern, "You always come back in a lot worse shape than me."_

"_Not always," Kakashi argued, smirking._

_Rin squeezed his arm affectionately, "I'll be fine, kakashi. I'm a big kunoichi. You just worry about taking care of yourself."_

_Kakashi didn't suffer that with a reply, merely giving his teammate an idle hum. They stood together in silence for a few minutes longer, thinking on the days before their team had been broken. They had both changed a lot._

_At last, Rin moved. "Well… I better go… Make sure you get home safely, Kakashi, and get cleaned up."_

"_Yes," Kakashi replied distractedly, hardly noticing as she left, lone eye on the names of the dead._

_It was just a normal day for the young ANBU Captain, WOLF. _


End file.
